


God of the Machine

by The_Carnivorous_Muffin



Series: God of the Machine [1]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Existentialism, F/M, Friendship/Love, Horror, Murder, Psychological Torture, Religion, Self-Insert, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-19 01:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 105,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15499401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Carnivorous_Muffin/pseuds/The_Carnivorous_Muffin
Summary: Upon entering the world of Death Note Anna Jones considers her survival and the prices she is willing to pay.





	1. Chapter 1

_“The world is like a clock. Putting in an extra gear does not fix it; it’s not always that easy. Often times that gear becomes trapped as it is dropped in, finding itself lodged between gears, and the watch stops altogether. Like a stone I was thrown into another world. As I fell I did not see the ripples I myself made.”_

* * *

Light Yagami first noticed her presence as a whispering of papers in an artificial breeze. As if a book had been left open carelessly behind him and its pages revealed what it would to any who cared to pass. Later he would reflect that there should have been thunder, lightning, a crash, an explosion, something of monstrous proportion to signal what had truly happened. Yet, there was nothing only that subtle noise and the faint whim to turn and see what book had been left open.

Having been writing in the notebook he only spared a casual glance behind him and yet once the image registered his pen stopped. Sitting behind him was a girl, between fifteen and seventeen judging at a glance, with blue eyes that seemed a bit too large and red-gold hair loosely tied back.

She blankly looked back at him, her eyes blinking once or twice, she seemed to focus on something and tilted her head. Then her eyes grew slightly wider and her face seemed to pale as something in her memory registered and triggered recognition. He had never seen her before in his life.

For a moment they simply stared at each other without masks and without illusions. Him with the notebook so casually open upon his desk and her sitting there hands in lap clenching the fabric of her shirt tighter. What lies they might have said died as they looked and saw their own naked reflection in the eye of the other. There was no mistaking it.

She ran first attempting to dart past him and through the door. She fumbled vaguely with the lock looking behind her to watch as he rose out of his chair and threw himself after her. It was a desperate gambit at an illusion of freedom; they both knew she had nowhere to run.

So when he dragged her away from the door (her fingernails tearing at the wood and her screaming all the while) and tied her to the computer chair (kicking and struggling) her efforts were only vague and half-hearted. She had lost even before she bolted from the bed.

Light sat himself on the bed across from her and watched through half-lidded amber eyes as she in turn watched him. Distantly he noticed Ryuk hovering above him, a cold shadow borrowed from another world, he could also hear his laughter.

“So then, who are you?” He asked in a voice that harbored the reshaping of plans.

She blinked looking stunned and then looked around and back at him, “I…I…I… I really don’t know why I’m here and I’m very sorry and this is…” She trailed off her eyes widening slightly as she took in the fact that his position had not changed. There were no illusions left for either of them.

It was strange how in a single moment both decided that lies were useless and that pretenses would get them nowhere.

“Who are you?” He repeated from the same seated position with the same expression.

“I haven’t thought of a name yet.” She said softly in a stunned voice and then her eyes growing wider she leaned forward desperately and said louder, “I’m nobody, nobody important, nobody you would ever know! Really, I’m just, I’m not even supposed to be here!”

I haven’t even thought of a name yet, that put things nicely into perspective. She knew about the notebooks, the names, and that was almost everything.

He couldn’t help but smile slightly at that, “You know everything already, don’t you? You hardly even glanced at the notebook, all you had to do was look at my face, I think you know exactly who I am. You’re a terrible actress.”

She leaned back in the seat and tried to scoot it farther back, “Listen, just listen, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I have no idea why I’m here. It doesn’t matter if I know who you are or not because I won’t be here long because this is a horrible horrible nightmare and I will wake up any…” She trailed off and her face paled as she took in more surroundings and the fact that the room had not changed.

He stood then and walked over toward her standing above her. He lifted her chin so that she would look him full in the face. “Let’s dispense with the games, alright? Since you’ve already made it this far.”

She tried to look away but her eyes returned, “Games… I really don’t know what…”

“Of course you don’t.” He responded evenly, “Who are you?”

She took a deep breath and exhaled, “Just a high school student, that’s all.” She closed her eyes and muttered silently with pale and twitching words.

“I too, am just a high school student.” Light commented drily causing her eyes to open in a flash of terror. “Who are you really?”

“No, really, that’s it. That’s all.” She insisted desperately, “I… There’s nothing I can even think of to say!”

Despite the desperation there wasn’t much struggling for freedom. Instead she just blinked and watched him as he stood above her not yet making her move. It was as if, while she was talking, she was playing another game entirely in her own mind. She was calculating, thinking of what to do where to go, and while she did so she had ceased to be in the moment. Desperation, she had already decided, would do her no good. She was probably right.

She was right on another count as well. She did appear to be just a high school student. Someone perfectly normal, nothing to look twice at, it was only the setting that presented the jarring image. She was only odd because she was out of context.

“Who sent you?” He asked looking at her through narrowed eyes. It was possible she was working on her own but anyone this reckless reeked of being someone else’s pawn. Still, he couldn’t think of anyone who would have known he was Kira in order to manipulate him.

“No one, I mean… No one I know.” She paused and took a breath, “I really have no idea why I’m here. One minute I was somewhere else and then I was… Well, you saw… I don’t…”

He cut her off, “Am I really supposed to believe that?”

Her face paled and she stilled only looking at him. It was a few moments before she said, “Yes.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because nothing else makes sense.” She insisted in a shaking voice, her eyes drifted to the notebook and she continued, “You haven’t had it long enough… No one outside of the Shinigami realm knows who you are and no one in there cares right now. You haven’t been around long enough for anyone to care, not really, not yet. And why would someone send me, I’m too young, too inexperienced. I’d make a terrible spy.”

His eyes narrowed and he lowered himself so that he was looking at her from her eye level, “And do you care to tell me how you know that?”

She shook her head and whispered her answer, “Because you didn’t insist that L did it and because you haven’t tried to kill me yet.”

He stood and walked back to the bed and said with his back turned, “Kill you. That’s a bit extreme. You know saying that makes me believe, well it makes me think that I should have reason to kill you. Do I?” He looked over his shoulder and then faced her sitting down once again.

She seemed to be at a loss for words in her sheer terror. Finally she managed to say quietly swallowing heavily in between words, “No… No, I, no… It’s too risky. There’s no need. You’d have to do it by hand and… There’d be nowhere to put me and… You won’t do it. It’s not worth it.”

(Though in that moment they both must have pictured her slit throat gleaming from the light that reached through the cracks of the dumpster where he had stashed her body.)

“No, I won’t.” He agreed solemnly.

In that moment of silence Ryuk had shifted between them, peering down at the girl, beginning to cackle. He looked at Light in expectation but did not interrupt. His wings like canopies stretched over them both covering their faces in invisible shadow.

“You’re right,” Light continued after a small amount of time, “It’s not worth killing you, as you put it, at least not today.”

Her eyes had become steadily blank so that they only reflected his own face and that of Ryuk in front of her. She looked steadily ahead unseeing and unwilling to show any expression on her face. He couldn’t help but wonder whether or not she was relieved or if she was wise enough to understand she had only bargained for a single moment of her life.

Light began to smile as he continued, “If you work for someone else I have no doubt that they will be stationed around the perimeter. As you said disposing of you would become tricky in that circumstance. You aren’t wearing a wire, there’s no cellphone, nothing has been recorded thus I have more incentive to let you live.”

She still did not move, simply sat, staring at him with a face like a doll’s. No thoughts present on her face so as to present him with nothing to face but a brick wall and an empty mask.

“However,” Light continued, “I highly doubt you are working for anyone. Only someone working alone, in desperation, would attempt something as idiotic as you have today. No one would risk a spy so casually. I entered this room twenty minutes ago, the door has been locked since. The lock has not turned, there have been no steps on the staircase, the window is closed and also locked.”

She said nothing but expression returned to her face a certain wariness that was less terrorized than before but still spoke of nothing but fear.

“You’re in the wrong place at the wrong time but that doesn’t excuse you. I think you and I both know that you won’t be leaving until I decide just what to do with you.”

He stood and untied the clothes that had been used to strap her to the chair. They fell wrinkled to the floor and dazed she sat there looking up at him with confused eyes. They narrowed slightly and she asked, “How am I supposed to stay here? What are you going to say to…”She trailed off and watched as he walked past her and toward the door.

His hand touched the silver handle and he turned to look at her with solemn eyes, “You’re an exchange student from the United States. The student who was supposed to house you did not check with his family. Left alone at school I took pity on you and said that my family would be happy to house you while you remain in Japan. It would be dishonorable to abandon you now.”

He opened the door and motioned for her to exit. She stood slowly on shaking knees, she brushed off her jeans as if to remove some invisible stain that had settled itself while she was tied to a chair. Her eyes watched him warily the whole time. She walked toward him slowly he looked down at her feet.

“Take off your shoes. They should have been downstairs already but in your haste to see me you clearly forgot, don’t make my carpet any dirtier than it has to be.” He said shortly.

She nodded and hastily did so clutching them in one hand as she made her way past Light. He closed the door softly behind them and followed her down the stairs watching her tense back as they descended.

It was that moment that he felt he saw her best. Later the vision of her would become muddled in too many emotions and lies to be clearly visible. She was best remembered as the nameless stranger who had arrived from nothingness and was travelling quickly to that same destination with only a few moments to spare for being in places she didn’t belong. Anything more than that quickly became unrealistic and faded into the background as she stepped past him.

* * *

Nightmares ended. Nightmares got to the point quickly, there was only a small build up, the monster did not present himself only to have tea and a conversation. The monster did not make plans. The monster simply killed you, and that was the end. He slammed you on a table and drew a knife out to let you watch it gleam and then he brought it to your neck and you died. Nothing more. Nightmares did not continue at the dinner table with only the vague pit of terror in one’s stomach.

In a dream the demon had no time for waiting and formalities such as dinner with the family were usually avoided for the sake of time.

She was beginning to suspect she was no longer dreaming. When she had stopped dreaming she didn’t know (or when she had started for that matter) she only knew as she sat next to Light Yagami and across from Sachiko Yagami and Sayu Yagami that she was no longer dreaming and that reality had ceased to go away when she stopped believing in it.

She had thought it was an odd dream in the beginning, (why Death Note?), but she had been convinced that it couldn’t be real. Light Yagami wasn’t the usual choice for a villain, he lacked a villain’s sense of dramatics and terror, but he was terrifying. He had no knives, no guns, no blood on his hands, but he was just as dangerous and just as terrifying as the rest of them. And just like any other monster he would kill her if she gave him half a chance and half of a reason.

She was riding the tide of the dream at the moment, making no movement, just waiting as it bore her along and letting it take her where it would. Whether that was to a dark alleyway, a warehouse, or Yagami’s dinner table was for fate to decide. She was so sure that she would say something wrong and she would be eliminated only for opening her mouth. And he watched her out of sideways glancing brown eyes that categorized her and dissected her and left her in labled boxes.   

It was more likely that it was a dream, too many things explained themselves, but it was the worst dream she had ever had by far.  

“I thought she wasn’t arriving until later,” Sachiko said and admonished her son, “I’m sorry we would have made you more welcome if we had known you were here.”

Outside the sun had just begun to set. The family was preparing for dinner and she was sitting in the middle of it all silent as a stone.

Light Yagami looked down at her with narrowed eyes apparently abandoning his own explanation for whichever one the family prepared, “Apparently the date was lost in translation, she arrived today, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier but I didn’t know myself until I got to school.”

“Still, they could have given some warning.” Sachiko said mildy, “I don’t even have her room prepared yet.” She shook her head as if greatly disappointed with the magical exchange program that only existed to provide explanation for her random appearance in their lives.

She hadn’t known deus ex machina could prove so thorough even in a dream. Her dream had made up its own exchange program just so that she could have a place in her favorite serial killer’s home. It made her feel so special.

Sayu smiled and asked cheerfully, “So, how do you like Japan so far?”

She turned her head and stared at the younger girl blinking and wondering what she could say. Sayu’s face fell as she continued to say nothing be nothing. Eventually she said, “It’s nice, it’s… different though. I’m tired right now, from jet-lag.”

She looked at Light then; watching him. He looked different in person. After that first initial shock of realizing just who he was she had begun to notice small changes. He looked more real in person, lines less definitive, and eyes that revealed almost nothing. His eyes seemed to cave in on themselves as if someone had painted many layers of watercolor on top of each other until all the layers began to bleed together. He glanced at her with those same eyes, only a slight hint of amusement showing, before looking back at Sayu.

Sayu nodded slowly accepting the explanation, “Yeah, I’ve heard jet-lag is a real bummer. You’ll get over it though, and then we’ll have to give you a tour of Tokyo! It’s great, you’ll love it!”

“Yeah,” She said softly, “We’ll have to do that.”

It wasn’t going away, no matter how much she told herself it wouldn’t last, it wasn’t going away. It was such an odd conversation, such a normal conversation, as if she herself wasn’t even there. She was elsewhere, watching, not kicking, screaming, fighting, running like she should have been. They always run in dreams, as if it helps, because its instinctive but she couldn’t run and so she was stuck alive and in terror.

Sayu looked at her brother, “Hey, maybe Light will come too! It’s so hard to get him out and about sometimes but now that you’re here…” Sayu went on but she tuned the girl out instead thinking about everything.

She wondered what they thought her name was. She wondered whether it was European or some stupid Japanese name that didn’t suit her or perhaps if it was her real name. Or maybe she was supposedly from Wammy’s and had a pseudonym that also didn’t fit her, something like Myth or Nepenthe or Rainbow. She wondered if she would find out, if they would tell her, or if they would just leave her in the dark until the dream ended.

She was in Death Note. She couldn’t tell if it was the manga, the anime, or something in between. She had been transported instantaneously; without trigger and without ornamentation. She had found herself sitting on Light Yagami’s bed staring at Kira and having no idea what she was doing there. Kira had tied her to a chair and then had released her with a smile.

Kira should have killed her. She should be dead. But she wasn’t, and Sayu Yagami was talking as if it was all perfectly normal. Light Yagami said nothing, he just watched her, as if trying to decide just what she was.

She should be dead.

There were fan written stories about girls who entered Death Note. They were found by L and they declared that they knew everything and helped the great detective win the day. They were quirky, witty, and often times very beautiful. They had great senses of humor and soon enough L would fall in love with them, sometimes Light would as well.

In the real Death Note those girls would die. Faceless girls lying head down in the gutter, having been too careless, too loud. It would be so easy to slip.

She wasn’t one of those girls. She wasn’t from Wammys, wasn’t a psychic, had no special powers, or great intellect. She didn’t feel particularly charming and in the instant she had arrived she had known that no lie would help her stop him from seeing straight through her. She had stared into the eye of the dragon and had been paralyzed by it. It was so easy to slip, so easy to be careless, so easy to think you know everything and pay for it with a bullet to the head.

 She should be dead. She should be dead. Oh god, she should be dead.

“Hey,” Sayu interrupted looking slightly annoyed, “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry,” She responded without thinking, “Sleeping with my eyes open I guess.”

She should be dead.

After a single conversation Naomi Misora died, even after all her precautions, she died. If he really had to Kira could kill with just a smile. It was thought that Kira couldn’t kill with his bare hands but she had her doubts. He never had to before, it was just easier if you had a notebook, but she thought that if he had to he would. Light Yagami would kill his family if he thought he had to.

She should be dead.

“Sayu, I think she’s tired. She should probably get some sleep.” Light said saving her from yet another of Sayu’s dubious looks.

She looked at Light then, nodding dimly, not thinking that the man who should have killed her already had offered her an out, “Thanks.” She said and then made her way past the table.

Distantly in the background she heard Sayu say, “Man jet-lag must do some crazy things to people.”


	2. Chapter 2

_“I try not to blame myself for the beginning. There are things I regret as I look back down that dark tunnel of my fear wondering if one word could have made a difference. I think that my path was set the moment I was sent here, there was no saving me by that point, and that nothing I could have said would have made a difference. Still, sometimes I look back, and I want to curse every thought I’ve had and every thought I haven’t.”_

* * *

She was sitting on his bed again staring down at the luggage she herself hadn’t thought to bring with her. She was looking at a passport in her hand and she was smiling and shaking her head. Staring at the picture of herself she sat laughing with eyes that had ceased to look at him and only looked at the farce presented to her.

Her eyes eventually lifted to his and she stopped laughing. She looked away at his desk where the notebook had been put away and only absent space remained. Yet somehow that emptiness held her attention as if it made no difference that the notebook had been hidden in a drawer, for her it would always be sitting on that desk.

“So then, what is your name if you don’t mind my asking?” Light motioned to the passport she was holding.

The smile managed to hold itself though it dimmed slightly as she remembered his presence, “Anna Jones. It’s just, you know, the way everything’s been going I was wondering if it wouldn’t be Ravenna Wingates Steele.”

Light’s eyebrows drew together as he tried to puzzle through that statement, “I wasn’t aware that the name Ravenna was common.”

“It’s not.” She agreed.

“So then why…”  

Her smile grew in spite of herself, “Oh, it’s an old joke from back home. When you come to a place a nameless stranger the name you’re given always is a bit too long and a bit too flashy. General rule of thumb… I really was expecting to have to call myself something horrible when I found out that my luggage was already here.”

They both regarded the large suitcase and the small backpack that held all the clothes she hadn’t packed. They both regarded it suspiciously watching for some sign of forgery or error and yet it stubbornly remained luggage. Every hole was filled, every explanation made, and everyone left accepting and believing.

Light watched her from the door, the nameless stranger with every excuse to be there, and noted, “Yes, it does seem rather well put together, doesn’t it?”

Seeming to remember the reality of her situation the smile disappeared. She looked as if she was caught between lines searching for the one he would take willingly. She settled on feigned ignorance once again, “Are you asking for my opinion?”

“Do you have one?” Light asked in return.

She hesitated her eyes drifting down to the luggage that hadn’t been there before they left the room. She regarded it with as much fear as she regarded Light himself and yet when she looked up she still said nothing.

She paused and swallowed purposefully looking away from him, “No. When wrong answers get you killed you generally don’t have much to say. I’ve found that, at least.”

Light leaned back against the door frame his eyes pinning her in the room steadily, “That does not give me much room to move. This is too neat for my taste. You are either a very good liar or I’m being played.”

She looked at him blankly as if not quite sure whether to follow or not or to remain oblivious. She looked like an inexperienced actor in forced improvisation who had just been given the gist of her scene and wasn’t quite sure how she wanted to proceed.

Yes, he was certain that she knew everything, and that for whatever reason she saw no point in arguing against that fact. One look was all she had needed. One look at the notebook, at him, and she had run for the door.

“Being played?” She asked finally.

He looked at her with sardonic amusement wondering just how intelligent she was and how much she was hiding, “By someone infinitely more clever than yourself, but I think you know that. I think you know many things that you aren’t willing to say.”

“I don’t know…”

Light interrupted her before she could continue watching as her features froze again, “Is it safer you think to feign ignorance? Or would it be wiser to let some of the truth slip through your lips and your expressions? We’ve started a game without any prelude, rules, or pieces and here we’re already half-way through.”

Light smiled at her and moved from the door frame to sit beside her on the bed. He looked at her and said softly, “There’s too much about you I don’t know but that’s no reason to slit your throat in a back alley away from prying eyes. I don’t think you’re as stupid as you pretend to be but just in case I’ll make it clear. Don’t make it worth my time and effort to have you taken out of the picture, do you understand?”

She said nothing for a few moments, a steel fire burning behind her irises, and then said in a voice that spoke more than her words, “I understand.”

He leaned away from her and looked to Ryuk who was strangely silent in the corner of the room, “Good.”

He hadn’t gotten a chance to interrogate the shinigami he wondered if it had anything to do with Gods of Death. It would be just like Ryuk to keep him in the dark about consequences of using the death note, or to arrange it himself behind Light’s back just to see what made Light tick. He wondered if Ryuk had any idea what he had just done and what he would have to do to pay for those actions.

And then there was the girl. The girl whom Light suspected had been thrown into his world without prelude or warning. The girl who knew too much and was clever enough to realize what a terrible gift that was. She looked at him in terror that was almost pitiful, not even daring to implore him with her eyes, just looking at him as one might look at a wave descending. Fatalism, was the name of the expression in her eyes.

“You have too many secrets.” Light said bluntly. She looked away then, from what she saw as her inevitable death, and toward the window where the night looked like any other and the stars were drowned out by Tokyo’s light.

* * *

The girl who had decided to call herself Anna Jones tried to think of a practical means of escape. She was sitting alone staring at the television pretending to watch a soap opera while she attempted to think like Light Yagami. It wasn’t going too well.

In order to outwit Kira one must first be on par with Kira, or so she assumed. Misa had done pretty well without the intelligence but she had possessed a weapon of mass destruction and a love-slave Shinigami; she suspected those helped quite a bit. Anna Jones had neither and suspected that everything she thought of Light had thought of first.

She wondered if she would have fared better if she was one of those made-up Wammy’s girls from the fan stories she used to read. Whether Rainbow the great would have been able to talk her way past Light Yagami and defeat the big bad once and for all without batting an eyelash. Rainbow probably would have had allies, Mello, Near, L, and Matt and everyone would have loved her. She’d be just as intelligent and with a sense of humor would be able to successfully rub her intelligence in everyone’s face with a witty pun or two to spare.

Somehow it never mattered to Rainbow that Light Yagami had been so good at killing that he had managed to avoid the eye-deal for five years. It didn’t matter that Light had not needed L’s name in order to kill him, he just needed time. Light didn’t need the FBI agents’ names in order to kill them, he just needed Raye Penber. Light Yagami would kill his own family if he felt he had to and they all conveniently forgot that when the time came. And Rainbow wouldn’t have blinked, perhaps she would have even laughed at the thought.

Yet she shook with fear at the mere sight of him, alone in a room, with a pen in his hand.

She wished she could have been Rainbow instead. Anna Jones was batting zero so far.

The soap opera’s characters began to take on new faces and new backstories. She saw her own soap opera which had been played out many times before. The story of the original character who becomes lost in another world, who fixes everything, deus ex machine incarnate and everything wound up fine.

“At least I’m still living.” She said dully to the television screen. She didn’t really believe it though because he was in the soap opera too, watching, just waiting for her to slip or a new opportunity to present itself. It would happen and then Anna Jones would be no more and all her hopes and dreams and good intentions would be for nothing.

Rainbow wouldn’t have been worried about her imminent demise.

He hadn’t asked, hadn’t prodded, hadn’t even looked at her since he had given her his little warning. He'd just stepped back and became a polite high-school student he always showed to others who laughed at her jokes and smiled when he was supposed to. Nothing more. He was waiting.

Nothing to do but wait and see, that’s all she could do. She could try to run. She could slip out the window and jump from the balcony without looking behind her. She could run through unfamiliar streets and alleyways at night without a thought or a plan inside her head. She could run with nowhere to go and if she didn’t find herself dead by morning then she’d find herself on some unfamiliar park bench wondering where Anna Jones could get her with nothing more than the sweat on her back and an unused passport. So she could run and find herself brought back to Light Yagami’s tender care with more explanations necessary and more chances to try his patience until one morning she would find herself dragged out into the night while the steak knife smiled in Light’s soft pale hand.

She briefly wondered what the police would say. If she ran to them. Told them she knew where Kira was and that he was keeping her hostage. (And tell them what exactly? That she was an exchange student in his house? That her passport was a fake and she was really from another dimension?) If she got past the operator what then, what if she got as far as Soichiro Yagami, would she get any further? No, the police hadn’t solved the Kira case until Light Yagami was good and dead. In her case the police would be no help at all, running was better than going to the cops.

So she was stuck, on the couch staring at soap operas, trapped against her will in a glass bowl being watched at every moment until her performance was too lackluster for her captor’s satisfaction. She was Anna Jones the exchange student and would be Anna Jones the exchange student for as far ahead as she could see.

Anna Jones would be starting school on Monday with Light Yagami, she would take classes and smile and attempt to make friends all the while ignoring the fact that she was sitting next to Kira and was the only one who knew it. All the while she would think about running, if it was worth it, if it was possible at all, and would remain trapped in the gold fish bowl.

She turned off the television, tired of watching the soap opera her life should have been, and turned to leave only to find herself sitting in someone else’s shadow. She looked down at the floor noting the ragged black boots that could not have belonged to Light Yagami. Involuntarily her eyes drifted upwards until she was staring into a pale face with yellow marble eyes. She looked for a few moments seeing her reflection there, crouching, hiding, ringed in red with numbers dangling above her head and then forced her neck to move so that she would no longer be looking.

The words God of Death supplied themselves to the image without her prompting them.

She had forgotten. Somehow along the way, between the fake names and the insistence on ignorance and the sheer ability to just stay alive, she had forgotten about the Shinigami.

She stood mechanically and began walking up the stairs to wherever her room had been placed looking anywhere but behind her. She heard it laughing and suppressed her body’s urge to flinch and run.

She had forgotten that Light Yagami had a God of Death on his hands and that despite Ryuk’s gambits for entertainment if she wasn’t entertaining enough and if Light bribed enough it would be very easy to have an unfortunate accident. If she wasn’t interesting enough she would die, if she let too much slip she would die, if Light tired of her she would die, if she went to the police she would die…

The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it, “Shit.” She paused took a breath and then repeated herself, “Shit!”

The shinigami was laughing and she wished that she wasn’t hearing it, couldn’t hear it, could pretend that there wasn’t one more player in the game she had to appease. No, game was Light Yagami’s word, it sure as hell wasn’t a game to her. She shouldn’t use his words, his phrases, to describe her life and the choices she had to make.

She wished she could find a rock to throw in his window and watch the cracks weave into the glass by invisible spiders. She wished she could find a rock, any rock, and curse his name louder than anyone had ever cursed him before. Louder than Naomi Misora, L, Near, Mello, all of them even Matsuda. She didn’t want a gun to point at his head, she wanted a rock to throw through his window, a thousand rocks so that one might shatter the glass so she could just go home…

All she wanted was to go home. That was all she wanted. She didn’t want to be the detective Rainbow or anyone else who thought they were better than they really were. Leave saving the day to someone who had half a chance. Those dreaded numbers were dangling above her head as well and they could condemn her just as easily.

But Anna Jones couldn’t go home, not yet, because she had been placed here with too many excuses too many reasons to stay. Anna Jones had some hidden task to perform and Anna Jones wouldn’t let her leave until that task was done. Like some dread puppeteer Anna Jones stood high above her pulling at her strings and making her twitch.

She realized that she had stopped walking half-way up the stairs had in fact been standing there frozen for quite some time as her mind raced. Although she wasn’t looking behind her (hadn’t dared glance that way) and was in fact staring at the top of the stairs where nothing was waiting for her she felt the shinigami’s marble gaze behind her. It was like thin needles being placed delicately onto her back, onto every inch of exposed skin, and just leaving them there where they gleamed silver threatening blood if she so much as moved an inch.

Light was right, faked ignorance wasn’t getting her anywhere. It wasn’t getting her killed but it wasn’t making things any safer for her either. If she wanted to have surer footing under her feet she’d have to take a chance, jump across the gorge and pray her legs were stronger than they felt.

She didn’t turn but said quietly hoping no one else would hear, “Hi Ryuk.”

(The house seemed to echo with the syllables of that inhuman name.)

Behind her she heard something that vaguely sounded like, “Eh?” Ryuk seemed to wait for her to explain but when that didn’t happen and she didn’t move it began to laugh and asked, “So you can see me then or just hear me?”

“Both, I guess.” She said.

The laughter continued and when she wasn’t looking the voice almost sounded human like she was having a normal conversation.

“You know I’ve heard of humans with the sight before but usually they just get one thing. This one guy got the eyes but couldn’t see shinigami, just life-spans you know, drove him nuts… He ended up lighting himself on fire actually, thought it would make him look smart.”

She felt a chill and found herself staring at Ryuk’s back. She watched as he turned so that he was facing her again, his feet two inches from the floor, just hovering there like some puppet that lacked the decency to have visible strings.

“Really?” She asked dully not feeling any curiosity at all but just dread, pure dread.

The shinigami grinned down at her looking exactly like a god of death would look, “So, why’d you start talking to me now, trying to keep secrets from Light?” It laughed at the mere idea of trying to keep a secret from Light, “Have to say, don’t know how that’ll work out for you, you’re not doing well so far.”

She attempted to shrug but it was far stiffer, bonier, than she thought it would be, “I know. I just realized that if I’m going to stay alive in the long run I need to have a good entertainment value for you. At first I was just taking Light into account… But that’s not going to work in the long run because I need you to be on my good side more than I need to stay safe from Light. If I can prove to be entertaining enough to merit my existence it’s going to be a lot harder for Light to bribe you to kill me if I become too much of a hassle…. If you get my drift.”

They looked at each other in silence. Her, with a blank expression that desperately tried not to give away the terror or the fear that she had made the wrong move, and him with a slightly confused look.

Finally Ryuk said, “You think too much.”

She blinked and responded, “Well when your life is on the line and you’re abandoned in the home of a serial killer who would kill his family if he had to then it’s usually best to think too much.”

And Ryuk was on the floor in hysterics, or rather floating in the air like it was the floor, looking for all the world like a hyena who had just spotted its first dying and or dead animal of the night. She grimaced at the comforting sight of a grim reaper laughing at her rather desperate situation.

Finally he managed to splutter out, “Oh he is going to love you.”

She didn’t nod, didn’t move, but only stood still thinking about what she had just done, the hints she had just given. She had too many secrets but now she wouldn’t have enough of them, she’d have to explain eventually, and the explanation would give too much away. Not only the situation (the whos, the wheres, and the whys) but also what would happen if he tread down a certain path. She knew the rise and fall of Kira like the back of her hand and it terrified her. If he knew what she knew perhaps he wouldn’t dispose of her but he might do something worse…

She stepped up the stairs through Ryuk refusing to think about consequences because she had been right. It had to be done, in some respects Ryuk was more important to appease than Light, Light was more terrifying but Ryuk was a god of death and she should never forget that. She had announced herself as a person of interest and a possible source of entertainment and that was what was going to keep her alive. She did what she had to.

But at what price? What price had she paid to keep herself alive a little longer?

How much did she want him to know?

Did she want to tell him the truth? That she was from another world, a world in which his life had been scripted in black and white. A world in which his story dictated that he had been shot to death in a warehouse under the supervision of all the king’s horses and all the king’s men who wouldn’t bother to put him back together again. And to learn that every choice he would instinctively make, everything he did, had already been recorded and drawn in delicate detail. Everything from the piece of notebook in the watch to the sacrifice of the director of the NPA to Mello, every little thing belonged to someone else, not to Light Yagami…

Could she get away with telling him half? That she could see Ryuk, knew everything about him so far, a bit about L, but nothing else…

How much had she already told him? She couldn’t quite remember only tasting the fear and the desperation and the bolt for the door that had been locked. She could only remember him staring at her across a chasm dissecting her for further analysis...

Perhaps he already knew, but if he didn’t then he’d pick up on it fast enough from Ryuk or from somewhere else.

She had the dreaded feeling that all her excuses, all her lies, all her attempts to outmaneuver a self-proclaimed god were only a sad attempt at fooling herself; as if she had painted her face to become Anna Jones and had thought that a bit of red paint might convince the world of her new identity.

There really was only one thing she could say to sum up the situation, “Shit!”


	3. Chapter 3

_“Did I bargain with the devil? I don’t know. The beginning was a rush of adrenaline and terror and near death experiences. I suppose the nature of my agreement and terms with Light Yagami will be for someone else to decide. Still, with a gun in my face and my hands tied behind my back what choice did I have?”_

* * *

 

Light Yagami liked to think of Anna Jones as a rough mask that had been whittled down and smoothed with general wear and tear. Each time she spoke, moved, woke up, walked she shaved down rough edges and tightened strings until it would no longer fool just the extremely near-sighted. Each time her blue eyes would tighten, become for a moment slightly brighter, and she hesitated for a few seconds (each interval grew shorter as time wore on) and answered in Anna Jones’ voice.

Anna Jones was a high-school exchange student from the United States who was (as far as Light could tell) near if not fluent in Japanese and taking classes at Light’s high-school as a part of her program. She spoke in a confident manner, conveying her emotions with opinionated expressions, and often made dry comments that were sometimes funny and sometimes not. She wanted to tour Tokyo with Sayu before she started school so that she could see what was happening on the other side of the world. She said the right thing at the right time and treated everyone the way they should be treated given their assigned roles.

However she wasn’t always fast enough, sometimes the mask named Anna Jones slipped a little and the other girl looked out instead. The other girl, the one he had met first, was far more calculating and careful than Anna. She paused and waited and always weighed her words and actions carefully on a scale of her own design. She wrote out her scripts at rapid speed and revised at an equally brisk pace. In the beginning the revisions were obvious. Each time the other actors’ attention wandered there were her eyes staring at the table, running over the lines and the synopsis, scratching out words here details there…

Would it serve Anna Jones better to be shy or to be outspoken? A shy girl would unlikely travel all this way by herself without friend and without a contact to her past. A shy girl could hold her peace better and think before she spoke but if Anna Jones was brazen enough no one would look twice. If Anna Jones was noticed, liked, it would be that much harder to explain her absence. And so Anna Jones became charismatic and humorous in an instant and her jet-lag of the previous day had been forgotten.

Still, Anna Jones would always be a mask, nothing more. Anna Jones always stopped her jokes a little short of the mark, always stopping a little bit away from that edge that could be deemed dangerous. She rarely spoke or noted anything about Light that couldn’t be noted by an idiot and when she did let words slip by the mask had been removed completely and only the sheer terror remained. For Light only the eyes behind the mask counted, the ones that watched and waited for the sunset that was sure to come.

Anna Jones did not seek out Light but when the girl who wore her face as a mask came to talk to him he was not surprised.

(Although Ryuk’s actions had been a big give away to a changing scenario. Ryuk had been laughing the entire morning. Every time he saw her he burst out into hysterics. Light had only looked at him debating whether it was worth asking or if he would find out eventually. Light was waiting to grill Ryuk until he could get more information from the girl, it would be difficult to get Ryuk to cooperate later if he started asking questions too soon. Besides, the laughter indicated a surprise and the Shinigami was terrible at waiting for the punch line. If Ryuk could hold his tongue so could Light.)

It was interesting to see how rapidly the mask was thrown away when it proved fruitless to wear it. She didn’t replace it instead she wore that same frightened blank mask that he had seen before. The face that watched and waited and showed blatant thought but not the actual nature of the thoughts themselves. It was like watching hands on a great clock spinning at a rapid pace, far faster than natural, and trying to make out which unseen cogs were responsible for the spinning.

She was going to start school on the next day and seemed preoccupied with finding her school materials and dictionaries but couldn’t help looking over her shoulder every once in a while. Looking over her shoulder eventually brought her to Light Yagami’s bedroom door.

“Did you want something?” Light asked as he ushered her into the room watching for the usual signs of Anna Jones, the stuck out chin, the blazing eyes and the defiant posture but she seemed to be lacking energy and instead opted for being herded into a corner.

She looked at the room then, differently than the first time, still with that edge of fear but with something harder as well. She watched the room as if waiting for it to change, to become brighter or darker, and reveal its true nature. It never did.

She looked at him and said in a voice that only seemed collected, “Has Ryuk told you yet?”

(And there it is, he thought as he looked at her, the missing punch line.)

Light’s eyebrows raised slightly and he spared a glance to the shinigami attempting to piece together why Ryuk would show a piece of his death note to this girl who knew too much, how he was going to make sure it never happened again, and what he was going to do with the girl now that it was blatantly obvious she knew too much.  

She didn’t flinch, didn’t tremble, but he could tell behind her eyes that her soul was cowering. Good, then, at least she knew how much this cost her. He could feign ignorance and make her go away until he could think of a better plan but that seemed too little too late and from the look in her eyes; she would go but it would not be easy to convince her of hallucinations. He could do it though, get enough hallucinogens in her system and she wouldn’t know what was real anymore. After all she was already partly convinced it was a dream… Perhaps it’d be easier than he thought… That would solve things nicely.

(An image appeared in his mind of the girl staring blindly into the distance, her eyes consumed by pupils, and pale hands twitching. Through glazed sightless eyes she stared at him and he knew that had he slit her throat those same eyes would be staring back at him with that same soulless expression.)

However there was another option; honesty, blatant barefaced honesty. If he silenced her now the information was gone. Whatever she knew and where she knew it from would be driven into madness and addiction and he would never find it. The threat on skin surface would be eliminated but what about the unknown beneath, ridding himself of her would be ridding himself only of the mask, not of the true power beneath. He could afford to wait a little longer, give her a little time, and eventually he’d hear the truth from her.

(He noted how unsurprised he was, as if he had expected her to see Ryuk all along, and that this was another predictable step in the game. Just another step he had already mapped out before him, another thing to be taken care of then brushed to the side. She had already known about the notebook, him, and Kira why not Ryuk as well? Light might even have called it predictable; it certainly followed the pattern. But then again Light had never truly been surprised in his life, everything for him was predictable. Even the notebook itself had not been surprising… Still there was something anticlimactic in the way he solved this problem without blinking an eye.)

He gave a slight smile as he settled on his new and untried tactic, “No. He hasn’t.”

She looked slightly surprised that he didn’t pretend to know nothing as if she had been expecting a different answer. Honesty appeared to be new and unexpected for her as well. The script was rewritten in a moment, the cogs turned, the hands on the clock face moved and she spoke again.

“You know I’m not from here.” She said slowly looking him in the eye carefully, those desperate scales weighing in her eyes.

“I know.” Light said with a smile, “Your passport says you are from America. Or are you referring to that other place you are from?” He looked at her with a more sober expression wondering just what she was handing him and how seriously he was to take it.

“I’m not from your America.” She said quickly as if it hurt her to do it, “I’m from another universe. A parallel universe.”

“What makes you say that?” Light asked, “Your spontaneous arrival?”

She looked at him judging, weighing, looking at the edge of the cliff and judging how far the water was below and if she wouldn’t be dashed to pieces by rocks if she jumped. He was curious as well, it was somewhat entertaining, watching her try to wriggle her way out of the trap that some mad and sadistic god had placed her in.

“Partly. There are other things though.” She said shortly looking at him and taking a breath before continuing, “You know that I know more than I should. That’s obvious. The reason I know those things is because I’m from another universe.”

Light stared at her, the way her eyes blazed, as if she had said something particularly damning and waited for the wave to finally crash over her and drag her to the pits of hell. Yet, Light thought, it wasn’t that surprising of information. Looking back he had known for quite some time that she was from another world but had never felt the need to formalize it as a thought, it had seemed so terribly obvious.

He stared at her, the inter-dimensional traveler, and responded, “You’re very good at telling me things I already know. That’s not the secret you’ve been trying to keep. I’m not interested in where you’re from and neither are you, it’s what you know and how you know it that concerns us. You knew the danger to your life not when you looked at the notebook but when you looked at me. Ryuk didn’t hand you a piece of the notebook either, he may be an entertainment addict but that would be a bit rash when things are still this hectic, you saw Ryuk on your own.” He paused and watched as her own actions came back to hit her in the face.

“So, did you come up here to continue to tell me things I already know?” Light asked.

Sheer panic entered her eyes and she immediately twitched toward the door. She managed to compose herself before all out sprinting for the door and a way out of the labyrinth.

She took a breath and began again, “Not everyone from my universe would know about you, about the notebook, or about Ryuk. I guess I’m just lucky.” She paused here and gave a small derisive laugh while her eyes bled.

“Why are you lucky?” Light asked moving closer to her and watching as she took a step back.

She appeared to be deciding something at rapid pace. Deciding whether to tell him, deciding whether she wanted him to know what she knew, and deciding whether she could survive on her own if the world outside would accept the false name Anna Jones or if her fickle god would send her right back to his open arms.

The light went out in her eyes as she realized the truth, looking at Light’s face. Her fate had already been decided, she would stay or she would die, there was no in between. She knew too much to be set loose and there was nothing Anna Jones could do or say that would make him free her from the cage. The best she could do was make herself of value, any kind of value, so that he would not have quite as much incentive to silence her.

“There’s a story where I come from. It’s called Death Note.” She paused looking at Light with dead eyes, “It begins when a shinigami named Ryuk drops a notebook into the human world and a human named Light Yagami picks it up.”

He thought about the notebook then, hidden in the false drawer, and the words scripted across its cover. It was the glazed look in her eyes that extinguished his doubt and he found himself believing that in another world he had been written on paper.

He supplied the implications for her, “It’s my story, then.”

“Yes, but there are others involved too.” She looked away from him, “It’s mostly about you though.”

Light hesitated before asking running over her previous conversations in his mind, “You mentioned L and how it was early… how did you know when I had picked up the notebook?” Her face fell as she realized the names she had dropped previously condemning her to this conversation sooner or later. She must not have realized, in that panic of her arrival, what she had given him.

She looked blankly at him, “You weren’t being a paranoid bastard enough about it. Have you met a man named Lind L. Taylor yet?” She asked in return her eyes weighing his.

“No.” Light said honestly with no hint of confusion.

“Then it’s very early. People are just beginning to notice, the newspapers are covering it up but on the internet sites are popping up, they call you Kira and you aren’t thrilled at the prospect of being worshipped as ‘Killer’ but it’s better than nothing. You’ll appreciate it more later. Right now you’re just waiting for the cops to make their first move and for everyone to acknowledge your existence as more than coincidences.” She said and as she did so her eyes dulled as if she were listing off mere facts that had no place in discussion.

(And so she knew everything that would happen, as if it was written, and could foresee every turn in the future as if they were only words. To her his life was nothing more than a tale of morals intriguing but flat and two dimensional.)

If he believed in shinigami notebooks and gods of death who drank the life spans of humanity he might as well believe in a parallel universe where his life had been scripted for him. It seemed a more reasonable explanation than he was expecting considering that she knew far too much and had appeared out of nowhere.

Light looked at her with no expression, “Interesting. Is it a good story?”

She looked at him, a light of curiosity beginning to glow in her eyes, “Does it matter?

He smiled in return and said, “Yes, if it was good you would be more likely to pay attention.”

“Oh.” She said slowly looking at him with something other than terror growing behind her eyes.

He cocked his head and observed her, she seemed to be waiting for something, some sort of request or statement on his part. She looked unnerved that he would say nothing and just leave her sitting there with no more than a single question.

Finally she asked in a horrified whisper, “Aren’t you going to ask me anything?”

(They shared visions then of a girl tied to a chair, her pale limbs shivering, blood dripping from her nose and running down her neck, and her eyes like twin stars staring down at him in the dawning horror of the newly fatalistic. And a question followed bringing a dreaded silence in its wake…)

He couldn’t help but smile as he realized that despite being smarter than average she was still reading off of an improvised script, “No. You’ve made it clear that whatever you do know about me you find me to be very dangerous. To be frank I don’t trust you. I have no way of judging the information you have to be true or not. Even if I were to torture you I doubt I’d have enough time to get the information I want without someone interrupting. Besides, I’m not experienced at causing immense physical pain; I may go too far and leave you saying only what I want to hear. Not to mention that even if you were to tell me all you know it may no longer be accurate. If you are from another dimension and have now entered my world what makes you think the story has not changed already? A butterfly flaps its wings and it causes a hurricane on the other side of the world; you may have already changed all you expect just by being present. Faith is not a familiar concept to me and I don’t think I’ll try it out on the first inter-dimensional traveler I meet.”

Her look of horror drifted into one of confusion until she said, “You know, I really thought you would ask.”

He only continued to smile at her knowing that if he ever was truly in need of information he could buy it from her. She continued to look at him, slightly puzzled, and she stood to make her way to the door. When she reached the silver handle she turned back and said in conclusion, “You really don’t trust anyone at all.”

His smile dimmed and he regarded his reflection in the pale blue of her eyes, “I suppose that is what’s going to keep me alive.”

She didn’t respond that he should be worried about his future or that everything would be fine but her eyes held shadows of things to come and he found them more unnerving than he liked to say.  

* * *

Anna Jones found herself staring at the Sunday paper in slight confusion. She was looking headline and realized that it was in Japanese and that she couldn’t read a word of it. This wasn’t surprising she didn’t know a word of Japanese but it was something of a reminder. The reminder was that she didn’t speak, understand, write, or read a word of Japanese or Chinese. Someone could plaster the phrase “I am a jack-ass” onto a shirt and sell it to her claiming to be a declaration of peace. She would never know the difference.

She looked over to Sayu who was watching a soap opera with Ryuga Hideki on the television. Instead of tuning out the monotone and bland plot she listened in and found herself understanding words. She looked at the screen scanning for subtitles in funny characters she couldn’t understand. They were curiously absent.

“Sayu,” Anna said in a loud enough tone to grab temporary attention from the fourteen year old.

“Yeah?” She asked in return her eyes still glued to Ryuga Hideki’s golden features.

She tried to think of how to phrase the question without sounding weird. Perhaps she could pass it off as a mistranslation. Words that got mucked up but sounded better in the original language, besides Sayu was distracted by Asian-anime David Bowie and wouldn’t be paying too much attention to what she said… It would still sound bizarre.

“Are we speaking Japanese right now?” Anna Jones said haltingly.

 “What?” Sayu responded either out of lack of hearing or lack of understanding.

Anna wondered if she should suck it up and admit what a bizarre question it was or just press through to get her answer. It didn’t seem like it mattered since she seemed to be communicating fine. Still, for Sayu to be as fluent as she seemed in English by the age of fourteen… And the fact that Ryuga Hideki while clearly on an Asian network was talking like he was from England was a bit alarming.

She found herself fighting down the urge to go ask Light. Over the course of the day she had found it tiring to be in utter terror of him every time he entered the room and then pretend not to be in utter terror by cracking horrible jokes to Sayu. Her body eventually gave out half-way through the second day of her imprisonment and just decided that if she was going to pretend to be normal she might as well be normal. Of course, she still mentally knew he was terrifying but the fact that she was relaxing in spite of this terrified her even more. This was what happened to Naomi Misora: he exhausted her to death.

Still, with Light there were no pretenses he probably wouldn’t think twice about the question. That was the frightening thing, there were no masks, as soon as someone made it slightly easy for him she was kaput. By proclaiming herself to be an interesting person with supernatural knowledge and a mysterious past she had sidetracked Ryuk enough so that he shouldn’t be a problem unless Light got very heavy on the bribing but that wouldn’t stop others. She had also given herself potential worth to Light and he might keep her alive just for the reserve

She still had Misa to deal with. Only a few months and Misa would come in out of nowhere and proclaim her undying love to Light. What would happen then? Would she move out? Would Light let her leave when the time came now that he knew what she was? And then, where would she go if she left?

Perhaps she should take to wearing a mask and become a vigilante; Tokyo’s new batman the almost detective Rainbow whose secret identity was Anna Jones foreign exchange student from a parallel universe. Maybe she’d just wear really big sunglasses and pretend to be blind…

She was getting a headache from all this thinking. This, she thought, must be how L and Light feel and this is why they’re insane.

She got up from the table and made her way to the couch to sit beside Sayu and watch as Ryuga Hideki seduced another woman on screen with a rose in hand and a charming smile on his lips. She felt curiously relaxed and found herself thinking that if she drove her poor brain at a speed worthy of competing with the likes of Kira and L then there would be nothing left of it by the time she really needed it. Perhaps it was best to take things as they come, keep an eye out for signs, but to sidestep catastrophe only when it was at her doorstep.

No one had really had that attitude before so it wouldn’t be as if she was Takada or Mello or even Misa. They’d all had stupid idealistic reasons for their decisions. No, she was more like Matsuda. Who even though he was depressed, had shot his boss whom he admired greatly, and destroyed his world view had at least been alive at the end of all that shit.

(The detective Rainbow wouldn’t be worried about wearing down the cogs in her head to oblivion.)

Anna Jones decided that soap operas were more interesting than whatever the hell her brain was coming up with, “So what’s the beef here?”

“The beef?” Sayu asked probably wondering if Anna’s ability to communicate was breaking down. Beef was a weird way to say plot but Anna was tired and just talking to Light exhausted her.

“What’s going on? The problem? The plot? Why is that man so attractive?” Anna asked pointing to the dazzling Ryuga Hideki.

“Um… I don’t know?” Sayu said her eyes never straying from the screen.

“You’ve been watching this for a few hours; if you don’t know the plot no one does.”

“Well, he’s a wealthy heir and playboy but he has a mysterious past and an evil twin brother but the twin isn’t in this episode and he’s met this woman who…”

Anna smiled and nodded as she listened realizing that soap opera plots, while more ridiculous, were much easier to stomach than the Kira investigation. Still, it loomed in her mind, all the things to come and her own place in them. A butterfly flaps its wings and it causes a hurricane on the other side of the world, Light had said. What earthquakes had her footsteps summoned when she first stepped outside of his bedroom door?

The time would come though, when she would hear them rumbling, and know that it was time to outwit the gods. Until then she would wait, rest, and accept her survival for what it was and watch as the rising wave descended upon her.

Although she was still wondering about the Japanese thing.


	4. Chapter 4

_“Was it my responsibility to save those who were innocent in Kira’s reign of terror? I don’t know. That’s the ultimate truth. Say what you like but we’ll never really know my true role in this place. The original character has no script, no destiny, and no mark on the road she has chosen to take that will lead her out of the woods.”_

* * *

 

They walked side by side from the school. Without the obligation of maintaining the illusion of being a normal American exchange student Anna Jones had gratefully dropped the act of being Anna Jones and had not spoken a word since Light met her on the campus. She walked beside him in her new uniform with a frown on her face as she deliberately did not look in his direction or Ryuk’s who was in hysterics behind them. Ryuk was thrilled with whatever malignant god had placed a hapless girl in Light’s bedroom with too much knowledge and too much of an imagination forcing her to realize what that knowledge meant. Instead of a show of just one Ryuk now had a show of two and got to watch how Light managed to outmaneuver a seventeen year old girl without having the police investigating him for homicide that wasn’t Kira’s.

Light and the Shinigami had been alone in the room after Anna Jones had left to return to her life of saying ridiculous things in front of Sayu in order to pretend to be just a normal exchange student. Light had continued to stare at the door even after she had left his mind’s eye watching as she descended the stairs looking back with that dubious expression that wondered how many mistakes she had made in one evening.

“So, what are you going to do about the girl?” Ryuk had asked Light when the room was steeped once more in shadows.

“Wait.” Light said and made his way to the desk to find the death note waiting in the drawer.

“Wait? That’s it?”

“Yes,” Light said as he drew out the notebook, “I’m going to wait.”

Ryuk laughed and extended a claw to point at Light, “Isn’t that a bit of a risk, Kira? Having someone who knows all your deep dark secrets under your roof?”

Light gently placed the notebook on the desk reading the gold lettering on the cover almost instinctually before turning to the computer and drawing up the internet. Through the reflection he could see Ryuk’s leering expression and hungry marble eyes.

On the computer Light began to sift through faces, names, and histories, “She’s not enough of a threat to warrant that kind of a reaction. Besides, what kind of a man would I be if I killed a seventeen year-old girl for being in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“I thought you were all about making sacrifices for the greater good.” Ryuk noted and crept closer to hover behind Light’s shoulder. 

Something in the shinigami’s tone caused Light’s hands to still and his head to turn to give Ryuk a more pointed glare, “It would be a waste to kill her when I know nothing. I don’t know why she’s here, I don’t know how she was brought here, I don’t know how intelligent she truly is and how much of this farce is her acting talent, and I don’t know if there will be others. If I kill her now I will always have to look back over my shoulder and wonder if she could have been of use.”

Ryuk grinned at Light saying nothing and as he did so Light’s eyes narrowed and he folded his hands together determined not to let the cold rage seep through his fingers. It wasn’t worth discussing morality with a god of death and Light could see no benefit from that particular conversation.

“But maybe you can answer some of my questions.” Light noted switching topics, “This seems much too convenient to be put on without your help.”

“You mean the girl?” Ryuk asked seemingly surprised by the shift in conversation.

“Yes, I mean the girl.”

“What? You think I brought her here?” Ryuk asked in a stunned voice.

“Not necessarily, but it’s an option. You also could have arranged it.” Light’s eyes continued to narrow as he regarded the shinigami watching as his smile slipped away and he began to move on the defense.

Ryuk held up his hands in front waving off Light’s baleful stare, “Look, Light, we don’t do that kind of thing. Believe me if we’d had anything as entertaining as a human kidnapping service do you think I’d be here? The best they have up there is gambling and even that gets dull after a while…”

Light interrupted the shinigami, “Am I supposed to believe that some other higher power transported her here for its own sadistic sense of entertainment? Even you must think that sounds contrived.”

“Hey, why not?” Ryuk asked, “I was just entertained by having you around, didn’t even think you needed an audience member or an assistant or whatever the hell she’s supposed to be.”

“And why the hell should I believe that?” Light asked softly watching the raven with the clown’s face as its grin returned.

“’Cause you’ve got no choice. You can’t make me tell you and I don’t see anyone else around. You’re just stuck asking the girl and you’re going to have to live with it.”

And on the computer screen the name and face of a rapist awaited him, staring back out of sunken dark eyes, and in them Light thought he could Ryuk’s own reflection and wished his pen would reach far enough to kill the gods. 

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the voice of the girl walking next to him pulling him back into the present where he walked home from school with the exchange student, “Light, when we were first talking the other day what language were we speaking?”

She seemed taller than he remembered, perhaps it was the daylight, and walked in a more brisk hurried fashion than she had on the way to school. She looked desperately out of place in the school uniform and seemed to want nothing more than to sprout wings and take off running. Still something of Anna Jones had snuck into her expression and there was a determination that had been lacking when he had first met her.

He felt his eyebrows lift and glanced at the girl next to him who was staring straight ahead with a determined look on her face, “Japanese.”

“I don’t speak Japanese.” The girl responded shortly more as an insistence than an actual belief as if she had been told all her life that Anna Jones doesn’t speak Japanese when in fact she had never attempted it.

“You’re speaking it now.” Light noted.

Her frown deepened and her pace became slightly faster as if walking far enough and fast enough might bring her back to the place she came from.

“No, I think I’m speaking English because I only know about four phrases in Japanese and twenty-five percent of those came from the Terminator.” She sighed, “It seems that whatever mystical entity brought me here it didn’t want to bother with the language barrier.”

(Light took that as a small sign that Ryuk may have been telling the truth. Light could never see Ryuk putting that much effort into any endeavor, he might have found it more humorous to leave the language barrier intact and watch how Anna Jones stumbled her way along.)

“That explains why you sound so fluent.” Light noted, it had seemed rather odd that a girl who didn’t seem to have a Japanese drop of blood in her body should be fluent complete with idioms and all at the age of seventeen.

Light continued to walk and then asked, “Did it teach you how to read?”

“No. It didn’t. If it had I wouldn’t have bothered talking about it. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed, honestly. There have been more important things to think about than my ability to communicate in another dimension. Do you know where I can find an English to Japanese dictionary?” She asked abruptly as if remembering that despite the fact that she was playing Anna Jones she shouldn’t talk to men who could kill her with a name, face, and a pen without anyone being the wiser.

“There’s one at home.” Light said offhandedly, “So how did you manage to get through the day without reading a word of anything.”

Her eyes grew blank and she stared at him as if he had sprouted horns. The idea of small talk with Kira must have been contradictory to her but she managed to swallow eventually and get out a few words.

“Well, it was um… Math was okay, English was also okay, everything else kind of sucked…” She trailed off and sighed looking away from him to the buildings that trailed their walk home no doubt remembering her attempts to bluff her way through the Japanese alphabet.

“Are you asking for my help?” Light asked still watching her out of the corner of his eye.

She seemed to struggle perhaps wondering if Anna Jones was too prideful or too well-versed in Japanese for help. Or perhaps she was judging the merit of receiving aid from Yagami Light who very well could be plotting her death. Eventually she seemed to concede defeat and responded with a soft, “Yes, please.”

Something about the nature of their play the roles they had taken on caused him to smile. Their half-hearted attempt to play the game of charades handed to them failed to fool even themselves. Light Yagami and Anna Jones new friends walking home from school talking about their day and asking each other for small favors. At a distance it was almost belieavable. 

He wondered if he should extract a price immediately or let her wait until he was in need of some other favor. He had no true reason to help her. No, he was only there to watch the fly struggle her way out of the web as the spider’s jaws descended. Say they found out she was illiterate, there’d be a more extensive look into her background, and there were bound to be holes if the great omnipotent god that sent her failed to make her Japanese enough to understand the language. If they found out they would send her back, back to some place far away where no one knew her and she could never return. His little witness gone without a trace of blood or ink on his hands…

But then she was also clever. How much had it cost her to ask Light? How much had she bargained away in the scales hidden behind her eyes? Anna Jones might be illiterate but Anna Jones was already an improvised mask and Light always had to wonder how much was Anna Jones and how much was the girl beneath. It was getting harder to tell and harder to see how those wheels spun inside her head.

There was nothing less she could do in America than she could do in Japan, the world wasn’t as small as it used to be and Light suspected that her ill-mannered god would not give up his game so willingly as that. If he attempted to rid himself of her the god might simply transport her back with a new fake passport and a better ability to read the language. Not to mention that she had already given Light incentives to let her stay.

She had known that she had no place to go back to and had made a leap of faith letting him know her value in the game. She had made it difficult for him to simply abandon her to the wolves and had made it worth his time to keep her in play. She still had cards up her sleeves and he would have to be more patient than that to see them played out before him. It was a longer poker game than he intended and with a foe he hadn’t been prepared to meet but he would play all the same.

“Yes, I’ll help.” Light responded with a cheerful smile. She frowned at the expression and averted her attention to the horizon once again abandoning Anna Jones when she no longer proved necessary. Light supposed he was the same but he hoped his abandoned cheerful personality was much less blatantly neglected at the slightest excuse and opportunity.

He wondered if she would ask what he wanted in return but that didn’t seem to suit her. She thought about instead, those wheels in her head spinning, until some new idea was formed and took root in her revised script.

He wondered distantly if she would be right. He had yet to know because that favor had yet to be asked, but it would be, one day and she would have to display her poker hand for all the players of the game to see. One day the charade and the mask would fail her and she would have to play a more honest game.

Until then however the charade remained and Anna Jones attended high school.

* * *

She had forgotten about Kira; or misplaced him, perhaps.

Walking home from school in a language she didn’t understand with a man she didn’t trust she had forgotten about Kira. It seemed something so blatant and obvious and dangerous that she could never forget it. Apparently survival had taken precedence of morality, she had known but in her own way she had let that knowledge slip her by.

She had forgotten about L.

She wasn’t near Light as he watched Lind L. Taylor die on public television. She had left him to lounge on the couch in front of the family’s television. She hadn’t necessarily forgotten what it was he did in his spare time but she had put it aside in her mind as if it didn’t really concern her, perhaps in trying to play at innocence she had actually managed to succeed. Then she saw Lind L. Taylor and she remembered.

She watched as the great detective L announced himself. Watched as he challenged the madman called Kira whom the public wasn’t even sure existed. She watched all of it, every bit of it, and she did nothing. Thought nothing.

It was a show.

The truth was that Lind L. Taylor didn’t need to be publically executed under false pretenses. That was the show. The headliner to show the public that there was indeed a Kira and that the war was on. L had enough evidence to pinpoint it to Japan (and from there to Tokyo with sheer population), had enough evidence to show that Kira killed with a name and a face, he had worked on less evidence before. No, it wasn’t to get evidence. It was to prove a point and to provide entertainment. Kira, the best thing since Cracker Jacks.

What had Lind L. Taylor done to be the unannounced victim of the death chair? What had made him so convenient that he would lay as a dead anchorman for all the Kanto region of Japan to see. Why had Lind L. Taylor needed to die so shamelessly?

Was it because Light couldn’t control his temper? Was insane? Had to one-up the great detective L before the race even began? He’d kill everyone just so that he could win his pissing match with L. And she knew that neither of them would give a damn. The world would be charred and burning all around them and there they would be, declaring war over national television.

But then, hadn’t she already known that?

And then she saw why she blamed them. She was blaming herself. There was nowhere else to turn. Anna Jones could have spared Lind L. Taylor the shame of a public execution. He would have died regardless but she could have spared him this. Anna Jones could have said something, done something, done anything besides the nothing that she allowed herself. She could have run upstairs the instant she saw Lind’s stern face and said anything that would stop it. She did nothing, because she was a coward and because she was lazy. 

She had let him die. Not L, not Kira, but she, the nameless stranger, had let him die. She had effectively murdered Lind L. Taylor for lack of trying.

She watched behind glazed eyes as the gothic L appeared and promised Kira his execution and she counted another body’s worth of blood on her hands. L, who would die at Light’s behest if she did nothing. How many others would there be? The twelve FBI agents, Naomi Misora, Watari, L…

She leaned back on the couch saying nothing feeling the tears well in her eyes numbly. It felt as if everything had stopped, everything had stopped rushing and pounding in that realization. She was left staring into the abyss, into nothingness, as she realized her own true nature.

She had watched him die and said nothing.

“I let him die.” She said softly to the empty space around her seeing only the blood and the body. Saying it out loud made it thicker, the sound stuck in her throat until she was choking on it, sounding as if she had given her divine permission to Kira to dispose of Lind L. Taylor.

She had been standing by the dumpster as Light dragged his body into the alley way, she had stepped aside and watched as Light lifted the lid, she had seen the slit throat and the blood dripping down his body and had said nothing. There was nothing to say. Nothing to be done. Lind L. Taylor was dead and she had let him die.

That was the grand truth of Anna Jones. That was her true purpose. Stay out of the way and make sure your neck doesn’t get chopped off. Never mind the bodies, never mind the blood, never mind the glazed fish-eyes staring up at you. Just look down and keep looking down and don’t ever…

“Oh God.” She heard herself whisper and brought her head into her hands feeling tears begin to leak out of her eyes.

She should be dead.

Her breathing had become harsh and what started as simple tears turned into horrified sobs as L’s speech on the true nature of Kira continued. As he spoke she saw everyone, everyone she would condemn to die, saw them smiling and walking away and then their bodies staring up at her. She saw each of them and knew that it would be worse the next time and then the time after that and…

She should have died first.

She missed the dream, that feeling of fatalism, that she could do nothing to change anything so she might as well go along for the ride. Where was that feeling now? It was still true wasn’t it? Wasn’t it goddamn true that she could do nothing?

She sobbed harder pulling her head into her arms and rocking back and forth and seeing them all dying before her until she was the only one left. She’d be the only one left…

“Why should this be my fault?!” She screamed at the television, standing abruptly and falling over herself until she stared at that accusing gothic L on the white screen, “I did what I had to!”

The L disappeared leaving her standing with blank eyes at the television. Leaving her alone, as she always would be, until there was no one left. She dropped her head and ignored the return of the news station staring at the floor which contained all the eyes of the people she would kill by doing nothing.

“I can’t do this; I can’t keep doing this…” She trailed off shaking her head and bringing her hands to her ears so that she could hear something other than the useless chatter of the television.

Lind L. Taylor wasn’t the point he was a symbol of things to come. It would be harder when she actually cared. It would be harder when they didn’t actually deserve to die. What would she say when Light took that fateful bus ride to Space Land? What would she say when he took a bag of laundry to his father at the NPA building only to find Naomi Misora there instead?

Could she live with herself with so many dead bodies in her garden?

(And there would be so many bodies, too many to count, each one just passing her by as she said nothing and did nothing on their way to empty graves.)

“No.” She answered. Her hand took up the remote and she turned the television off wishing to see none of their frantic reports of the dead Lind L. Taylor and the war between Kira and L. Yet even with the television off she still heard them, arguing and debating in the background, and she wished they would all just shut up and leave the dead in some form of peace.

Yet, somehow she knew that despite her own misgivings and horror she would wake up the next morning with that same unresolved feeling in her stomach. She’d forget the instant Light looked at her again with that musing expression wondering whether or not it was time to feed her to the wolves. It’d be Anna Jones and her survival again, nothing more, and nothing less.

In the end Lind L. Taylor was still a drawing in a book to her and she had the feeling that he would always be black, white, and dead to her.

(And all of them, dead, would look up at her, and she would feel nothing.)


	5. Chapter 5

_“I am all the false names I’ve given myself. I am all my masks, all my lies, and all my charades. Yet, I am nothing real. I am a figment of my own callous imagination.”_

* * *

Outside the leaves had blown off the trees and the scent of winter was in the air. Through the glass the sky loomed overcast and the light seemed trapped inside the window, unable to make the full passage into the classroom. Light Yagami stared back at the trees thinking of a black notebook left unnoticed after falling from the sky. His ears however, belonged to a conversation that had the pleasant seeming of irrelevancy.  

“So what’s it like living with perfection?” A girl asked Anna Jones in the middle of homeroom managing to squeeze her way into a conversation with the exchange student.

Without looking Light imagined Anna brushing back orange hair from her pale face and blinking at the question; appearing slightly confused having been lost in her own labyrinth of thoughts only a second before. He imagined her pulling herself back from the constant grinding gears in her own mind and the terror that waited beneath a dazed and distracted expression.

“Living with what?” Anna responded in a vague confusion which comes when one isn’t really listening to the conversation.

“Light Yagami, smart, handsome, athletic, just… perfection. It must be interesting. What’s he like? I’ve never really talked to him myself but…” The girl trailed off waiting for Anna to respond, there was a pause that was slightly too long.

“I guess it’s interesting, frankly though he’s not really my type.” Anna confided in a clear voice that was a little harder than it should have been.

Light imagined a look of slight shock on the questioner’s face and then a small smile as she began to assume the thought process.

“You’re kidding right, with that face?”

“I’m more into the Clint Eastwood type. Light may be pretty but he just doesn’t kick ass enough for me to consider him.”

There was a pause where Light imagined the girl’s blank stare of confusion as she tried to remember who or what Clint Eastwood was. She evidently failed because she soon asked another question.

“Who’s Clint Eastwood?”

“Never mind.” Anna sighed and then departed back to her own  bitter musings.

She was distracting herself. He could tell. Anna Jones was slower than usual today, something had caught in her mind and would not let go causing everything to become a little slower a little less realistic. She still sat, pretended, put on her puppet shows but there was something in her expression a depth of thought that had always remained hidden before. In her laughter there was now a cold ringing, a desperate note, that he hadn’t heard before.

Something had changed.

(Something had broken.)

Something had caught between the clockwork causing the hands to turn slower and slower. The desperate script which she had so carefully attended lay neglected with her pen pausing above, dripping ink carelessly on virgin pages. There was some thought, with Medusa’s face, that had turned her mind to stone the moment she stared at it.

His head turned and he glanced at her seeing a single beacon of red hair and emptiness in a sea of shallow happiness felt by those who have never known true terror. Yet ,in her own eyes, the nothingness remained.

In his mind he heard her words echoing through dark vast hallways of thought, “Have you ever met a man named Lind L. Taylor?” 

He remembered the night before and watching her from across the room he found himself reminiscing on moments best passed over. He remembered standing before the television, notebook in hand, watching the gothic L appear. He remembered the silence as L proclaimed war against him and his cause and his own stunned silence. He remembered his eyes drifting to the door that would lead him down the stairs to where the prophet waited.

She had known, she had known all along that Lind L. Taylor would appear on public television masquerading as L. She had known that Light would kill him. She had known Light’s mistake before it had even happened and had carefully avoided telling him. She had allotted the first victory to L.

He remembered turning the television off and finding himself downstairs looking down at her as she sat on the couch; seemingly unaware of his presence. She had turned to look at him not blankly so much as with a dull resignation; Lind L. Taylor’s corpse still slumped over in her eyes. He remembered having said softly to come up with him, that they had things to discuss, and turning as soon as she stood. He had led her up the stairs until finally the door closed behind her and he looked her in the face.

“You knew.” He said (he remembered wonderment in his voice as if he hadn’t truly believed before that moment, in spite of what she said, and a distant hint of betrayal as if he had expected better).

She had no response, she only managed to stare at him out of eyes that held no expression, only dead. She leaned against his door and then began to slide down until she was sitting on the floor staring straight ahead into empty space.

Light continued, “You knew from the very beginning.”

He gave a small laugh, seeing himself falling right into L’s trap, and she had known all along. She watched him dimly, from a distance, as if she still watched through the medium of the printed page.

(This, he thought as he remembered in the classroom, must be what it felt like to talk to God.)

He walked to her until he was standing above her looking down and said in a harsh voice, “Why didn’t you bother telling me?!”

There was no response, she stared at his shins in indifference, her face remaining an immobile mask.

“You knew he was going to die. You knew about L too. Well, is this some cheap ploy to get me caught? Get me cornered?” He grabbed her shoulders and dragged her up until she was pinned back against the door, he leaned in forcing her to look him in the eyes, “Need I remind you of your true status here? You’re nobody, you don’t even have a real name, nobody would miss you if you slowly but surely faded out of existence. You think I can’t kill you, you’re wrong, it just takes a little more time and a little more planning but rest assured if I have to, if you give me incentive, I will kill you.”

The old fear began to return her face shaken but still in a small whisper she said, “I know.” Her eyes began to water slightly and she repeated in a slightly louder more desperate voice, “I know.”

(Light’s smile drifted from his lips until he lost sight of it completely.)

He remembered her first appearance and the words that had tumbled out of her mouth in a desperate gambit to stay alive. He asked then, “Do you want to die?”

At that she looked up and as she did so Light could see the wheels behind her face turning in thought, “If I had told you who Lind L. Taylor was would it have made a difference?” she asked slowly.

“What do you mean?” Light asked in return still pinning her against the wall.

“If I had told you that he wasn’t L would it have made a difference?” Her voice became louder more assured and her eyes took on a more confident glint, “Tell me, would it have stopped you for a second? You weren’t thinking, you just did it, regardless of who he said he was. If I had told you it would have changed nothing!” She pushed him away from her then looking at him in desperation as if grappling with a spark of hope that she had not been expecting. A bitter smile, knife sharp, began to grow unexpectedly across her lips.

“Besides, why would you have ever listened to me? What reliability do I have for you? There’s nothing I could say that would make you believe I was telling the truth. In fact if I had told you it wasn’t L you probably still would have killed him just in case he was. Win win situation, show L just what he’s messing with if I was telling the truth and eliminate your arch nemesis if I was lying. There was nothing I could have done! Absolutely nothing!”

She staggered back against the door and began to laugh breathlessly as she looked at him standing alone in the dark. Was there something of pity in her expression then, or was it only his imagination?

She took a deep breath and put her hand on the door knob leaning on it and shaking her head in disbelief, “So believe me when I say that I couldn’t have done shit!”

And yet, Light thought to himself in the classroom, here we are.

In retrospect he had lost nothing to L in that first moment, perhaps a few minutes of humiliation, but nothing more. Kira would survive unhindered, if anything it brought more reality to his presence than before, no one would doubt now. Kira had become a reality, had given the world unshakeable proof, and he had L to thank for that.

(In fact it offered Light a challenge, a definable goal, a game between two adversaries that could not possibly have been replicated. L in his declaration of war had triggered something, more than just a vision for Light; he had offered Light a path to salvation. L needed to know that Kira was real and Light had given him that, in turn Light had needed a definable point of victory and L had given that to him.)

In retrospect things seemed much more clean-cut than they had appeared at the time. And yet, Light Yagami thought.

Anna Jones and Light Yagami hadn’t spoken all day; they both more pensive than they should have been. The incident was nagging at Light; it showed too many holes in his planning for his comfort. He had underestimated his desire to have information, the siren’s lure of the predictable future, and yet becoming dependent on the future told by a young girl was to become prey to information outside of his control. But then, there was more, something else. It was her expression when he found her, looking at the television screen. It was if someone had stripped her of all her thoughts but left her an empty face that she could show the world in place of anything human. Something, perhaps in her eyes, had seemed particularly jarring.

He wondered why that was. Why should it matter to him what the witnesses saw, or rather what she saw? Why did he find himself remarking upon the cracks in her mask, not to exploit them, but rather to merely observe their existence?

What significance did Lind L. Taylor have other than being a corpse?

(And on the lawn there lay a black notebook unnoticed by all except one…)

After the bell rang and classes ended Light found himself breaking the silence. He walked over to where she was sitting and stood by her desk. She looked up at him with eyes that were more mistrusting in public than they should have been.

“Shall we go?” He asked his eyes sliding away from hers to look out the window once again.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw her nod hesitantly.

And there they were, with so many things left unsaid.

* * *

“Why does it bother you?”

She hadn’t been expecting him to ask.

The Light in the manga had been so very alone, so very indifferent to the world around him, he had never thought to ask. He had never thought twice about the opinions of those around him unless they could be played for or against him. That’s all people were to him in the end, something to be assimilated, nothing more.

This one, this Light, did. He looked at her with more attention than he had ever given to anyone who hadn’t solicited his attention first, whose opinion wouldn’t change the pieces in the game, who had no purpose to be exploited. Light never sought anyone out, he waited for them to come to him, and they all did eventually.

“What?” She asked for clarification, though secretly she knew the question.

“Lind L. Taylor, why does it bother you?”

Her thoughts stopped and she remembered the dead man, the desperation, and all the blood on her hands. It wasn’t an interrogation, he wasn’t asking as if he would have the answer no matter if it broke her in the process, it was a whim. A whim with narrowed eyes and a cocked head as he sat casually in his computer chair watching the girl sitting tensely on his bed.

The words didn’t come right away, “I saw a man murdered on national television. Why shouldn’t that bother me?”

She heard the smile in his voice, an amused thing caught unaware on his features, “No, that’s not it Anna Jones. It’s more than a man, a desk, and a public execution. You’ve seen this all before, you even told me his name… No, it’s something else for you, something deeper. What is it?”

She turned to look at him slowly, “Isn’t a dead man enough?”

She felt his eyes then, and thought that in his mind he was laughing at her, that he was looking down at her from silent smiling eyes while his mind was in hysterics. Finally, he responded for her in a soft voice that neither pitied nor respected but simply stated, “Not for you.”

(That hurt more than it should have, that he looked at her, dissected her, and all he found was this: that one man’s death shouldn’t have been enough. She wanted to say that he was wrong but then...)

Light continued over her own turbulent feelings, passing over them like some giant god who had momentarily blocked out the sun, “What is Lind L. Taylor to you, if he isn’t a corpse? What is so much more terrifying than a dead body?”

“You killed a man on national television simply for challenging you!” She shouted, “Why isn’t that enough for you?!”

He looked at her strangely then, as if she was saying something so obviously wrong that he wasn’t quite sure how to process it, “Because that’s not how you think, that’s how Anna Jones thinks, how everyone else thinks. To you though, I am a given, I am inevitable, I am that I am and nothing you can do or say will ever change that. For you there’s no need to intervene because intervention will lead to your death. It’s as simple as that, except when it isn’t.”

She wondered what it was he thought of her, what impression she had given him, in order to stay alive how much had she sacrificed that Light Yagami was willing to admit her own ruthlessness, that she had earned this heartless opinion in only a matter of days. Light knew that she had let Lind L. Taylor die and had seemed to think it perfectly natural that she should intentionally allow Light to kill him. He had seen nothing worth doubting in that, no, it was her reaction to the event that had him questioning.

She didn’t know what to say.

“Why do you even care?” She asked instead. The fear inside her was a slowly draining abyss eating at her soul day by day and yet it had grown so much less urgent, so much less necessary, that she could look at him and only think of how tired she felt.

Although he continued to look at her he did not answer the question but rather simply stared his fingers casually tapping out a rhythm against his desk. She wondered if she could simply get up and leave, walk out, or was she somehow bound to him as surely as he had been bound to L with chains.

The fear began to rise again as she realized that she had followed him willingly into his room, not by thinking that he might kill her if she didn’t, but because she had thought of no reason not to. It was as if she had somehow come to belong in there, that it was perfectly natural for her to just accept a summons from Light without question. She knew he hadn’t wanted anything, not anything important, why was she still there? Why had she bothered staying?

And then she knew. It was because there was no one else, when Lind L. Taylor had died she had found herself alone. There was no one else; not really. Sure, there were others (she had talked to them at school) who had been horrified by the prospect of Lind L. Taylor’s death and Kira’s sudden appearance but they didn’t truly understand the magnitude of what had happened. No one did.

There was only her and the god himself. In that moment she had been robbed of all illusions of ever fitting in, finding a place beyond Kira, because for her there was only Lind L. Taylor and his death.

There was no one else.

“How much do you know?” Light asked his voice breaking through the silence of her thoughts like a steel hammer.

“What?” She asked drawn back into the present moment sharply.

“You said that you knew my story, how much do you know?”

She was surprised at the amount of contempt she managed to feel, she wondered when she would run out of energy to feel anything at all, “Why? It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t change anything. I’m untrustworthy information, I’m the big glaring hole in the universe, I’m too interesting to let loose but too unknown to take advantage of.”

He didn’t respond but merely continued to look at her with that almost indifferent expression. Those analyzing eyes that stripped her down to pieces and then through her naked remains into the trash outside the window… She had forgotten how much she despised him.

“Why even bother asking?” She demanded.

Something in that question caused Light to smile slightly she suddenly had the feeling that he was suppressing laughter. There was something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before, a distant amusement that flashed briefly in pools of amber.

She wondered if he even cared that he was laughing over the death of a man who had died for nothing. Did it even cross his mind?

“You didn’t strike me as an existentialist.” Light explained, still with that slight smile.

She blinked, that was… curiously random. She wondered if her language barrier was rebuilding itself as magically as it had blown itself apart. She couldn’t have heard that right.

“What?” She asked, feeling as if she was repeating herself. His amusement seemed to grow and he glanced at the apples left on the desk that would eventually find themselves in whatever form of a stomach a shinigami had.

“I, myself, don’t subscribe to the philosophy but then I haven’t been transported to another dimension against my will and placed in the tender care of a man who seriously contemplates killing me at any moment.”

She felt that stunned silence of not understanding again and asked, “Are we really talking about existentialism?” She then paused and added as an after-thought, “I’m not existentialist.”

“You ultimately believe in only the futility of your own actions, you believe that you make no significance difference upon the universe, and that everything is outside of both your understanding and your control. However, this is only another mask, these are beliefs you’ve impressed upon yourself to cope with the world I’m creating. You don’t really believe them. You chant them in your head every night, like prayers, and think that this might make them true. You know it doesn’t. And that’s why you stared in horror at the television screen as Raye Penber died. You realized your own pretenses and self-loathing.”

And there she was, dissected, the blood a red ribbon flowing from her lips, her arms splayed out as if in prayer to some unknown god, her body naked and pale as she awaited salvation with eyes closed and head thrown back in the garbage can.

Her own pretenses and self-loathing, how had he managed to word it so well?

She felt the words leave her but she did not say them, “If you already knew then why did you even ask?”

And his answer came to her like distant church bells, ringing over some unnamed funeral. It was a soft almost gentle affirmation of the abyss growing beneath her and with it she felt herself fall from the roof top slowly, voluntarily, and stare with wide eyes at the disappearing world beneath her.

“Because I have never seen a person so completely and utterly alone in the world.”


	6. Chapter 6

_“The truth is that I understand him no better than you.”_

* * *

 In duller moments Light wondered at the nature of existence, fate, and divinity. They were the moments when the rain slid down the windows painting a gray-scale bleeding world where his hand ached softly as if it were a reminder of the dead.

With eyes closed, lying down on his bed, he listened to the persistent tapping of rain upon the window, an incessant series of beats ringing throughout his ears. Inside a notebook several names had been written, and beside their names times and dates, and beside those lay the invisible thought of the faceless detective whose name was only a letter.

In order to get closer to the detective he must reveal pieces of himself. A little here, a little there, to narrow the search so that L might come close to what he was looking for. Not too close, a little to the side, so that Light could see his features through a window as he walked by. Not close enough to stare him in the whites of his eyes, but to see them glance in his general direction as he made his way through the street.

He wondered when the implications would sink in.

When would L see what was so terribly obvious? Not the timing of the events, the people killed, but the nature of the responses to his decisions. When would L acknowledge the rat beneath the floor boards?

He was certain the man already knew, but digging out rats in a room full of men filled with fear, bitterness, and resentment of an outsider’s presence was not an easy task. Eventually though, the need to secure information would outweigh the benefit of tact. Eventually L would have to clean out the police force and in turn he would burn his bridges as they grew to resent him.

And there they were, Kira and L on their respective sides of the game board, waiting for the other’s move.

The waiting always reminded him of the girl who lived in his house, watching soap operas and doing math homework while cursing the dictionary that didn’t help her learn grammatical structure or conjugation. He thought of the dullness in her eyes and knew that to her, these necessary steps, these precautions and layers meant absolutely nothing.

She paused above the game board, glanced at it in a somewhat bored fashion, and then turned her attention to the two adversaries. It was they, the two across the board, that she would stare at for any period of time. Her thoughts would turn inward and in her gaze he would see some mistake, some flaw in his thinking, as the universe slowly but surely turned against him. (Nothing more than a simple game of chess between two armatures who thought they were playing god, that’s all they were to her. After all, it was her second time watching that very same game.)

He had been fighting the urge to ask what came next. Logically he knew that she had no reason to tell him the truth and he would have no reason to trust it as being true or false. There was also something else, some emotional chord within him struck when he thought of his life scripted by a middle aged man in a darkened room. He was afraid that his thoughts and actions could very well be those written on her pages, and he would never know the difference. What a nightmare, to only be the daydream of some mortal god.

Shinigami had not seemed so terrible. Light found, after the few seconds of horror of meeting Ryuk, that he was not entirely surprised. After all, why wouldn’t the gods feed off the life-spans of humans and be otherwise indifferent to their fates? Didn’t that seem more natural? Light had always expected either non-existence or sheer indifference from whatever deity ruled the universe. If such a being existed he had always expected it to be focused on the pattern, the physics, the macroscopic, and the microscopic not the fate of men. It would be so terribly arrogant to assume that the deity bothered with the politics and trivialities of human life.

Or so he had thought.

The universe was not supposed to be whimsical. Before she had arrived he would not have considered it prone to lapses of judgment and yet there she was, out of nothingness, staring at him in horror. She had appeared out of some invisible black hole to sit blinking on his bed (as if the universe had simply misplaced her or accidently nudged her into a different position). Just as a black notebook had once fallen out of the sky she too fell unnoticed into reality.

His mind spoke an errant thought in those moments, a small thing that had nothing to do with his own goals or aspirations. A simple sentence of both wonderment, terror, and a distant sense of pity. Had her god, like Ryuk, only dropped her out of boredom?

Was she only here to suffer, to see what made Kira tick, and to watch as he came to the realization that in some other universe he was no more substantial than a drawing on a page. He was less than the idea he presented and whatever he thought belonged to him in fact belonged only to ink and a man’s idle thoughts.

What thing could have condemned her to that?

(Yet, in the pit of his soul he knew, he feared had feared ever since her arrival that he lived in a world already written by some petty ineffable god.)

He opened his eyes and they wandered to the notebook now hidden away in a false drawer. They rested on the drawer for a few precious moments seeing beyond the wood to the black leather cover that waited beneath.

“Ryuk, how did the shinigami come across the notebook?” Light asked suddenly interrupting his own deteriorating thoughts.

“Hm?” The shinigami asked.

“Did you invent it?” Light turned his head away from the drawer to look at the shinigami who hovered as some dark shadow beside the window.

The shinigami turned toward him, “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” He said without hesitation (though he felt that there should have been some, if only to save face).

The shinigami wore its customary grin as if mocking Light’s ignorance and sudden desire to know where his tool of achieving godhood had originated, “No one kept track, sorry Light, but to us it didn’t really matter. We don’t care, just as long as they stick around.”

“There it is then. So terribly convenient, isn’t it?” Light said returning his gaze to the closed drawer.

“Feeling philosophical today, Light?” Light only distantly heard the familiar laughter afterwards. Light grunted in agreement eyes still on the drawer.

“It still bothers me.” He admitted finally, “Anna Jones is unnatural and yet, she seems to fit exactly in the scheme of things. A notebook that gives life through death to a rotting civilization with no purpose or direction and a girl who plays the powerless prophet who is condemned to watch the same play twice. I’d almost call it a theme.”

“You still don’t think I sent her, do you?” Ryuk asked taken aback by the sharpness of Light’s tone.

“Please, even you’re not this nihilistic. No, this isn’t someone having fun, seeking entertainment. It’s someone proving a point.” Light sad up and ran a hand through his hair turning his eyes from the drawer to stare at the handle of his door instead.

Standing to leave he said one final thought to the room, “I’m being played.”

* * *

She wondered how it came to this. At first she had thought it was some insane god with a sick sense of humor. Then she thought that perhaps she had just been driven insane. And then she realized that if she had been driven insane even her crazy brain wouldn’t have sunk so low as to place her in a hostage situation with a serial killer.

(Seriously, didn’t most people just hallucinate talking animals or something? She could have dealt with a talking panda; in fact she would have loved a talking panda. So long as the panda wasn’t a secret serial killer with aspirations of becoming god she and the panda would have become great friends. As it was she got Light instead, who was neither a talking panda nor a person who refrained from murder in cold blood.)

How had the universe turned so precisely that it placed her in Light Yagami’s bedroom standing over his shoulder as he translated an essay into Japanese for her?

Light Yagami didn’t even bother to look as if it was difficult, every once in a while he’d pause for a moment and then rewrite out the corresponding character but overall seemed to hardly be paying attention to the paper in general. Next time, she thought to herself, she was going to put in the most ridiculous words that couldn’t possibly have a neat translation just to force him to actually have to look at a dictionary.

“You do know that at one point you’re going to write in-class essays.” Light commented drily as his hand continued to write.

“Well then, I’ll just fail those essays by sleeping through class.” She responded irritably.

Light’s pen stalled and he turned slightly so that his eyes caught her; they seemed rather flat as if he had a hard time understanding that concept, “You’re going to purposefully fail in class assignments by sleeping?”

“Considering the circumstances I think God will forgive me if I fail high-school in a foreign country.” She noted with a somewhat dull resignation attempting to ignore the fact there were beginning to be more Japanese characters than English meaning that Light was in fact adding to her paper and probably making insightful additions at that.

“I can see that your high standards of underachievement reach every aspect of your life.” Light said beginning to write again.

She felt her eyebrows lower and she glared down at Light Yagami, “My high standards of underachievement? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

(She could have been sent anywhere. Why not Ouran High School Host Club? That would have been nice. Hell, she could use some Host Club, sure she’d fail high school there too but at least no one there openly discussed throwing her in the dumpster as a lifeless corpse on a daily basis. Maybe she’d have to cross dress or do something bizarre but she could have handled being Mulan rather than whatever the hell this was.)

This time his pen did not merely stall but stopped altogether, he set it down on the page and turned fully to look her in the eye, “You know perfectly well what I mean.”

She unconsciously then turned to see if anyone else was in the room. Sayu was out shopping with friends, Sachiko likewise had run to do errands, and she barely saw Light’s father even at night. Even though she was in that locked room, caged in with the tiger, she always felt as if she was being watched had to guard her every word just in case he felt she let too much slip. She always tried to catch herself but the terror was ingrained, instinctive, and she couldn’t shy away from it.

Turning her head back to his, watching his hard eyes that seemed no longer concerned over petty essays, her own eyes narrowed.

“Not getting myself killed is a little different than admitting that I don’t know jack shit about Japanese.” She said, a hard edge creeping into her tone.

“So then, you did sacrifice his life for yours. How many others are you willing to let go?” Light asked bringing up a hand to count, “One more, two, three?”

“Stop it.”

He didn’t though, his eyes kept blazing, and he kept speaking and asking. He kept asking the same questions she had been asking herself every time she woke sweating from another nightmare of Lind L. Taylor’s agonized expression as he collapsed, that instant where his face stretched itself until hairline fractures appeared everywhere on its surface.

“How much justification can you handle? How many times can you tell yourself that you could do nothing? How many public executions of Lind L. Taylor can you stand to watch?”

“I said enough!” She screamed at him, breathing hard. He stopped, looked at her, and smiled slightly.

“You have changed.” His expression changed and a small almost compassionate smile appeared on his face (it was wrong, that expression didn’t belong there, it was inherently degrading only a mask as if he had seen the true thing and thought himself a mimic), “The old you wouldn’t have said a thing. I think a little bit of Anna Jones is creeping into you after all.”

She said nothing, only looked at him, watched him stare at her and move backward toward the table, watched him smile.

“That’s good,” He said picking up his translation of her work his smile never slipping, “We need change.”

“What change?” She asked wishing to back up, but she had nowhere to go in the end. Why not hear it from his own lips? Why wait for the surprise? If she was going to die she wanted to hear it first.

His eyes traced his own rephrasing of her words, resting on each character in order, “I’m being played. I don’t particularly like the thought of some distant being manipulating my life for sake of a supposed moral high ground.”

She broke her silence then, “What do you mean moral high ground?”

Light simply glared at her as if to say that such words weren’t even worth saying, “Please, a notebook that kills people mysteriously falls into an idealist’s hands, a prophet whom no one hears shouts warnings and moral statements. All centering around a man who attempts to change the world through good intentions if unjustifiable means. If one is looking at this, at me, from the perspective of an outsider reading a story then any audience member can predict that my story will not end well.”

He looked away from her and the papers, staring into some unknown void, “To be condemned to death before I’ve even begun, well, it’s rather disheartening.”

And to think in that other world he had not believed for an instant that he would fail. Even at the end of it all he had died screaming denials. “Why do you think that? I never said how it ended.”

His voice was distant, softer than it usually was, “That’s true, you’ve never said it. You’ve made sure to avoid any topic regarding my future. More so than you did for L or for Lind L. Taylor. Perhaps it’s simply because you don’t want to give me anything to my advantage, perhaps you fear my suspicion of being fed false information… I think those are parts of it but then, I think perhaps there’s more to it than that.”

“You’re wrong.” She said her tone a hard stone falling against the earth, “I’m not that complicated. Some things, Light, you do take at face value.”

“You’ve never said a word about my success or my failure, not a single thing, all I know is that you knew Lind L. Taylor would die, that L would become my rival, and that I am not a thing to be reckoned with. You’ve been more careful than I’ve suspected, haven’t you?”

She almost grimaced, “I’ve just been staying alive.”

He nodded, “I know.” He began tapping his fingers on the table, “But as hesitant as I am to place my faith in anything other than myself I find myself never the less tempted. I refuse to be the citizens of Troy, burned alive simply because they refused to listen to a mad prophet, believing themselves to be masters of their own destiny.”

“So what do you want then?” She asked with narrowed eyes, “Because you’re wrong, nothing has changed.”

Light shook his head, “Oh but it has changed, there is a god, somewhere out there beyond my control. Evidently though he’s changed his mind, because he’s sent you. I can’t plan ahead if I have no direction, even if you lie to me it will at least give me a direction. Besides, I doubt that Anna Jones will allow too many more bodies to fall in her place.”

She narrowed her eyes and felt a rage that she had not felt in weeks, being too terrified to move or feel anything other than terror and exhaustion. He looked at her with that satisfied smile, as if he could own her soul with only words and vague threats. And so casually, so very casually, he laid the guilt upon her head as if he viewed himself as some inevitable force of nature that was only to be deterred but not stopped. In the end, Light Yagami blamed her for Lind L. Taylor’s death.

It turned out, go deep enough, push hard enough, suffer long enough and there was a point where her soul simply said no. She would not be blamed for this, not by him. If Light was going to kill fine, there was nothing she could do, but he would not blame her for it.

She made her way out of the room, not turning to watch the change in his expression, only pausing briefly at the door speaking before thinking (or perhaps thinking that solitary blinding thought of no, the instant refusal, that brooked no argument).

“I want something clear between us, Kira. I am not to be held responsible for your mistakes.” She turned slightly to look back at him eyes burning, no, not anymore, no, “In the end it’s you, and only you, who holds that notebook and it’s your handwriting, not mine.”


	7. Chapter 7

_“You do realize that even I don’t remember the shit I say. I may have known him better than anyone else but that doesn’t mean that I am him. I really don’t understand why anyone bothers recording anything I say. Perhaps we all settle for things in the end.”_

* * *

 Time passed almost without his realizing it. After the Lind L. Taylor incident Kira was everywhere. He was on the radio, in the newspapers, in the magazines, on the street, in the very air they breathed Kira existed and burned bright. Always Kira and L together, battling it out beneath the public eye as they had on that televised incident not so long ago, never a moment of silence. Even those who still claimed, but with little conviction, that he did not exist discussed him incessantly. His name was everywhere these days.

There were only two who remained immune to the contagious thought. The Shinigami and the girl, the alien visitors from other dimensions who merely deigned to observe. Ryuk took it in as a part of the game while the girl just watched with tired eyes. A little of Anna Jones slipped now and then, when Kira came up among others, her eyes would take on that haunted shade that belonged to the girl who thought too much and spoke too little. At first she had joined in the debate over Kira, whether he was right or wrong what she thought about all of it, but gradually she had stopped and would instead look out the window of the classroom to watch as the leaves on the trees began to disappear.

“Maybe I’m just tired,” She had said one night in his room as she rubbed her eyes, “You know I would have loved this kind of thing back at home, all this philosophy and shit… but it’s too real here. No one else seems to realize it though.” She stopped and looked at him, the grim and weary expression she fought so hard against during the day claiming her eyes. It was a few moments before she began again, “I guess it really comes down to Lind L. Taylor. People argue whether it was right or not for Kira to kill him but no one is horrified enough to realize that he was just a puppet for L and for you. He wasn’t even a game piece. L set a man up to be killed on national television and you killed him, and no one seems to care. I’m the only one who seems to be able to remember his name at all.”

Ryuk was fascinated by her. It wasn’t quite the regard he had for Light, whom he regarded as a kind of trickster or entertainer, but he still found her a great distraction from eternity. They never really spoke much to each other, but sometimes their eyes would meet, and Light would always wonder what secret thoughts passed between the two of them. The secrets of the universe, of universes beyond his own, all the twistings and turnings of the worlds that had brought them to him could have travelled through their gaze.

It was almost tiring; the constant noise of his name being called and the silence from his two shadows. Sometimes he would sit and leave the notebook untouched (now hidden more safely in an incinerating trap) and simply sit and listen to the cars on the street beneath his window. Even aspiring gods needed a break every once in a while.

And so time moved on in the death of criminals, the lies of Anna Jones, and his own carefully crafted words. It was an interlude, one of many to come, in which he could reflect and think before the game swept him off his feet once more. But the game was a hungry thing and soon enough it acted and with ravenous jaws it smiled as it knocked upon his door.

He had thought it might be Ryuk who would alert him to the next move with a grin and a laugh. Ryuk was probably waiting for the right moment to push Light back into the role of Kira. Instead his first warning of L’s next move came from the girl who called herself Anna Jones.

She stood outside beside the barren trees waiting for him. She was staring behind her as she waited for him with a quiet intensity that she usually didn’t have at school. As he approached her she continued to stare back her eyes narrowed without even a casual word or two that she would normally spare for him.

Before he could ask what she was staring at she looked at him and said in a rather dry tone, “You know I think my secret illiteracy is becoming less of a secret; if the magical voodoo god that messed with my brain in order to translate doesn’t show up I may be thrown out of high school.”

He couldn’t help but smile. Anna Jones and her battle with the language barrier was an ongoing thing. He had to put it to her, she did try. Whenever he came across her in the house she was always with a dictionary and a stack of papers to write on soon enough she would progress to children’s book, for having been trapped in a country whose language she didn’t even really hear for only a few weeks she was doing remarkably well. Still, the school was starting to get suspicious of her ‘stage fright’ that prevented her from writing anything on the board, or anywhere else, in class.

He shook his head and said, “If your voodoo god does show up please let me know, I’d love to have a little chat with him.”

Here her eyebrows raised and said, “Hey now, let’s not be sexist who says voodoo god isn’t a woman or a sexless blob?”

And then sometimes she said things like that. He felt that being Kira he should be above being floored by conversation with his future subjects but at the same time how the hell was he supposed to respond to the idea of his enemy, the god of Anna Jones voyage to his world, being a blob. She had been doing it with increasing frequency since the Lind L. Taylor incident, it wasn’t quite what he had expected from the persona he dubbed ‘Anna Jones’ but it wasn’t the quiet very careful girl he had gotten to know in her moments of panic. She had too many faces for comfort and like him she seemed to switch between them effortlessly hardly noticing the difference.

They had been walking for some time when her eyes drifted to their reflections in a few shop windows a frown appearing on her face. Finally she said in even measures, “Light, consider this an act of good faith. Don’t stop walking when I say this either but wait to look at a sign or something and then you’ll know. There’s a man trailing you.”

(How odd it seemed, that all it took to change roles was a few simple words spoken in quiet desperation and suppressed guilt.)

He stopped a few moments later by an advertisement on a shop window, there was indeed an extra set of footsteps. They walked the rest of the way in relative silence, their bodies puppets while their minds drifted elsewhere. It was only behind his locked door that they finally talked.

He stood out of sight by the window watching the silhouette of the man in the blue coat with narrowed eyes, it had taken L long enough but it looked as if he had finally decided to confront the rat in the police. He couldn’t see his face from this angle but he wasn’t desperate yet, besides a face would get him nowhere, he needed a name as well. The girl spoke even while he looked out the window.

“You know that I’m not on your side.” She began solemnly, “It must be fairly obvious that I’m not a… supporter of Kira. You’re ruthless; you’d kill your family if you felt you had to. Soichiro, even Sayu, you’d burn them all alive if you felt you had to.” She said this as if it was written in stone, an irrefutable fact, and he wondered if that should please him or not. In her eyes he saw himself reflected, not a man but a fire, something that burned and blazed regardless of what was thrown in for fuel.

Her eyes moved past him to the window where the man waited outside, waited for Light to slip and the games to begin, “People to you are nothing; we’re game pieces, convenient or inconvenient baubles that can be brushed aside with little effort and even less remorse. To you we are only our usefulness, the moment we outlive those uses you find ways to make us disappear.” She then trailed off as if thinking on her words before shaking her head and continuing again.

She pointed toward the window her eyes taking on a harder cast than they had in the past, “I’m on their side, the side of all the inconvenient baubles who knew too little and too much. Lind L. Taylor should not have died on national television, even you know that.” She laughed bitterly and shook her head even as a sad smile made its way onto her face, “You said we needed to change, that Lind L. Taylor could not happen again. That man out there is another Lind L. Taylor, just standing around waiting to die.”

Light smiled coldly then, “Are you attempting to instruct me in my own field, Anna?”

“You asked for my opinion. Are you changing your mind? Think what you want, Light, but that man isn’t an obstacle he’s a temptation. What will you gain from his death?”

“There is always the possibility that I could slip.” He said, “I would rather have him out of the way than hovering over my shoulder watching my every step.”  

She interrupted harshly, “It will only get worse if you do kill him. You think it’s bad just because one guy is standing outside your window? He doesn’t see anything! He sees your illusion, the brilliant high-school student who leads a perfectly ordinary life! To kill him you’ll need his name, and I do know Light that you can get his name, but you can’t kill them all without somehow differentiating him. And for what? What will he die for?” She held out her hand to the window as if she held the man’s life on a silver platter before him.

“It was a risk he was willing to take when he decided to work for L.” Light said calmly.

“No Light, I’ll tell you what he’ll die for. He’ll die for nothing. Not for L, not even for you, because in the end L will use his death to narrow down the suspects. There will be cameras all over your house all because you couldn’t be patient and you just had to beat L at his game.” She put her head into her hands and drew shaking fingers through her hair. She looked as if she wanted to scream but instead was forced to grit her teeth in silence and take the blows as they came.

He realized then that he pitied her. He did not extend his sympathy or any warm feeling but her certainly pitied her. She was very young, perhaps younger than even he was, after all she had never told him her true age. There were times when she would fold into herself and he could see how very close she was to breaking and yet she screamed anyway. She was his own Cassandra, screaming at the top of her lungs while Troy burned away into shadows and dust. But pity was not a kindness and in the end it would change nothing, it would only cast her in a slightly more pathetic light.

His thoughts returned to L’s crony waiting outside his window with seemingly infinite patience. He didn’t like it, his very presence made Light nervous as if the spotlight had irreversibly turned to him and the true narrowing down of suspects had begun. Still, the girl was right in one respect, getting rid of him was going to be difficult. He hadn’t thought of how to dispose of the man yet and if he asked she was unlikely to tell him details. And did he want her to anyway? Did he want her dictating his own future thoughts back to him? Or perhaps the Light of her world was different from him after all, less fluid, perhaps his errors were not Light’s errors. (And yet Lind L. Taylor had died so terribly easily on television, it had not even crossed Light’s mind to still his pen, to sit and think and simply wait…)

He walked toward her judging her serious expression, an act, how much was an act? There was no doubt she could act when she put in the effort. No, not just that she could act, but that she was very talented at it. She was almost as good as him. In public, in the house, everywhere else she was a grinning, odd, and adventurous girl who just happened to be in Japan during the debut of the Kira case. To the outside world she was his friend, waiting for him every day after school by the entrance to walk home, eating with him at lunch, and planning group outings with his friends. If she could maintain that façade so well in public then what did she manage to hide from him even now?

“You sympathize more with L than you do with me. Why on earth should I believe you?”

She drew her head out of her hands and looked at him with a curiously empty expression. Her eyes had frozen over and whatever emotion had formed the tempest inside them had gone leaving only a jagged ruthlessness, “I will not watch Lind L. Taylor die again. You asked for my advice, so take it or leave it, but I want you to remember when this is all over that I warned you that it would be a mistake to kill him.”

“How do you know I won’t find a different plan, one which eliminates my stalker but does not trigger L’s attention.” Light said with raised eyebrows, “I may come from a printed page but I can be quite flexible if the situation allows.”

She continued to look at him with those grim jagged blue eyes and said coldly, “Maybe, maybe you will find some way, but I’ll say this. There are things here beyond your control. Killing him is far more trouble than it’s worth and say you do think long hours into the night. It may still be the same plan, you’ll never really know. Lind L. Taylor still died, even after I had told you his name.”

Yes, there it was wasn’t it? Lind L. Taylor, how could such an unimportant man come to bear so much weight in their lives? Much more than when he was living, certainly. To him it was his mistake, glaring proof of his fallibility, and proof of forces beyond his control. That heart attack highlighted her knowledge, his own thoughts and actions listed before him so easily within reach. Lind L. Taylor made him afraid, he would dream of himself in the future attempting to think in a way that had not been written out for him and then reading the book to find that it had been self-fulfilling prophecy. For her it was the guilt of allowing a man to die, of standing by the side and watching as Kira did what he must. Useless, wasted death; in their own way they both longed to be rid of it.

She did look like a prophet that night, her eyes a cold fire sweeping through his future leaving nothing untouched, no stone unturned, and all the while that same fire burning through her and beyond her until it was almost blinding. In that moment she and Ryuk were mirror images, each turned to him with alien expressions showing him the threads that tied them together.

“Get out.” He said softly, and her eyes still burned through him and beyond him until even he could see the ashes of his own future, “I said get out.”

She stood and without a glance behind her she unlocked the door and left.

* * *

There had almost been no decision. It was as if she had already made up her mind the day Lind L. Taylor died and was only going through the motions of thinking until the time came again. She had already decided the moment she laid eyes on the poor bastard.

She had been expecting Raye Penber for some time. She had never been a Death Note fanatic, fan girls tended to scare the shit out of her, but she had known the plot very well. After L died got a little fuzzy but before then she was confident she could name every major event to occur. She knew the order of events, even vaguely the timing, but she didn’t know the exact dates. After Lind L. Taylor appeared Light began to toy with the police and eventually L sent FBI agents to watch various families of agents.

She saw him the first night. She had gone out for a walk in the neighborhood when she saw him. It was beginning to become a slight ritual with her, getting out of the house, walking alone where no one would look for the truth or the lies in her. She could be no one then, a faceless stranger, a lost little girl among the street-lamps and houses. The illusion of freedom, it was so terribly beautiful, and yet even so she couldn’t shake the fact that even in the illusion she wandered alone.

On her way out she didn’t notice, it was only on the way back that she caught him loitering almost inconspicuously against the wall reading a newspaper as he did so. If she hadn’t been looking she may never have seen him.

It was the next day that she stole Ryuk’s thunder and informed Light of his situation. Now she was sitting on the couch attempting to plot nervously while she waited for Light to make his decision. She had done all she could for now, he would either believe her or he wouldn’t. There was not much more she could do.

He had said they needed to change, Lind L. Taylor had been a slap in his face, he knew that something was wrong. He couldn’t trust anyone else but damn if he couldn’t trust himself either. He had allowed his temper to get the best of him and because of it he had been humiliated on national television. He may not trust her but he hadn’t thrown her out of the room immediately either, he had listened to her argument. Of course he could have just been hiding, perhaps she overstepped her boundaries and he was planning on how to rid himself of her and Raye Penber at the same time.

She couldn’t live like that though, not again, she would not watch Lind L. Taylor die again. That was why she was here, that was her purpose, to save the pawns in the great game that was Death Note. She didn’t think she’d save them all, she wasn’t deluded, hell she didn’t even know if he would kill her for this but she would try. If this worked Raye Penber would survive, the other FBI agents would survive, he would never even meet Naomi Misora…

“Heya,”

She lifted her eyes to see Ryuk floating in front of her with his usual grin. She looked around to find Sayu and Sachiko absent. She’d only seen Soichiro once or twice and even then he hadn’t really paid much attention to her. He’d only nodded once or twice and stared tiredly down at his food. The poor man, he had such hard years ahead.

After checking again that the room was empty and that no one would think she was hallucinating she began to talk, “Shouldn’t you be plotting with Light?”

Ryuk shrugged, “He’s too busy thinking to start muttering yet. Besides we never talk.”

It was true. She and Ryuk hardly spoke to each other. She supposed it was because for one reason or another they had both come to play similar roles in Light’s life. They were silent and invisible spectators to Kira’s great circus. They just thought of the show in different terms, she watched an absurd tragedy, he watched the best shit he had ever seen since humans invented arson.

“No, you’re right, we don’t talk.” She said when the moments dragged on and he continued to stand there leering at her in his rather creepy inhuman manner. She had almost gotten used to Ryuk. He had been much less terrifying in the manga and the anime, he had just been there, but in real life he put any boogey man to shame. Whenever they were in class her eyes would drift to Light and to his seven foot tall shadow, they looked like death.

The moments wore on and eventually she asked, “So, do you have anything you want to ask?”

The shinigami laughed, damn that was unnerving, she had to fight from shuddering, “You’re different from Light, he’s more entertaining than you but you’re not exactly boring either.”

“Thank you?” Different from Light was good at least however entertaining in Ryuk’s book usually meant insane and ruthless and she wasn’t quite sure she wanted those qualities.

Ryuk continued, “I wish you’d let him kill the cop, he’d come up with something fantastic too.”

“You think he won’t?” She asked abruptly her eyes flashing.

“Do you?”

“I don’t know…” She trailed off and then leaned back to regard Ryuk, “If he doesn’t are you expecting me to entertain you in his stead? I’ll tell you now that I don’t have Light’s flare for extensive plotting.”

Light was right, her improvisational acting skills had improved beyond recognition, only Anna Jones could sound so passé when talking to a shinigami about ‘entertainment’. She was so tired of being terrified, it was leaking out of her, she looked fatigued. There were shadows under her eyes, her smiles even when she tried always looked a little grim, and she fell too easily back into this plotting.

“You already are entertaining. He still doesn’t know what to do with you, talks about it all the time, when he’s not talking about L or becoming God that is. No one knows what you’re gonna do next, it’s almost worth it when you foil his plans.”

“I have yet to foil any plans.” She said critically, “And besides, let’s not call it foiling, I do enjoy being alive you know and I don’t think people who interfere with Light’s plans live long afterward.”

“He’s considering it though.” Ryuk said.

How many gold stars would that get her? She raised her eye brows dubiously at Ryuk and sighed her feet still tapping. Considering it, that meant nothing, absolutely nothing. She had to take it one step at a time though, either he’d say yes or he’d say no and until then she had to sit and wait.

She frowned, somehow she doubted Ryuk had come just to chat about her rather minimal influence on Light’s decisions. “What are you really doing here?”

And how it grinned then, so terribly, saying words more damning than any others she had known, “Always an ulterior motive? Eh, kid? I guess you could say I’m curious. Light’s always ranting about what you might know and might not know and I’m starting to wonder to.”

She looked at Ryuk critically, though her heart had begun to stutter and said in a quiet voice, “I will not become any less entertaining Ryuk if I happen to know more than you think I should.”

Ryuk laughed, “Oh are you worried about dying again? You are paranoid aren’t you?”

It said something that even through her terror of dying by the hands of a serial killer and his grim reaper she still managed to be somewhat insulted by his amused and patronizing tone. Seriously, did these people not appreciate that she appreciated the danger she was in?

“Yes I’m worried about dying again!” She whispered harshly knowing that shouting would only bring Light down from his room and that was the last thing she wanted, “I’m always worried about dying! I hate this place! I live in terror every moment that one of you might decide I’m a bit too much of a risk, too boring, too clever, too dumb, or any number of things and just get rid of me as if I was nothing! I have to be paranoid because paranoia is what is going to get me out of this alive and I will never forget it!”

And yet even as she said that she knew it was no longer true. She had changed. She could no longer live her life here as if it was something to simply be survived. She did have a duty to those poor bastards who would suffer Kira’s wrath.

She could no longer live with the girl who played at being Anna Jones.


	8. Chapter 8

_“The vernacular is red shirts. I don’t really know if Star Trek exists or not in this universe but it’s a good term. The expendable extras that are set out to die in a story, to give it tension and weight; in other words the people we see but choose to ignore. There are a lot of them in Death Note, you never thought about them much before did you? I sure as hell didn’t. Sure we say, Light’s an evil murderer who must be stopped, but how many of us actually wondered where the hell Lind L. Taylor came from anyway and why he was set up on national television. I didn’t, I know I didn’t.”_

* * *

There was something so jarring about the thought of two beings from different dimensions studying humanity by watching reality television. One, the god of death, laughing in hysterics at those whacky human antics; the other the rather confused looking orange haired American who discovered that her breach of the language barrier did not help her understand culture, all in all not what he would have described to his sister as beings from another dimension.

He watched them silently, not quite willing to notify them to his presence yet. It was easier when they focused their energies on watching game-shows and soap operas. Or was there a difference at all? Perhaps to them, when his back was turned they saw the same thing, a soap opera and a game-show. Entertaining and bewildering all at once; each audience member riveted to their seat waiting for the protagonist to take the next move. It would explain that expression he saw in their eyes every once in a while, as if they had seen this play before but still anticipated the ending; Ryuk with laughter and the girl with grim understanding.

The girl, he’d found himself thinking yet again about the girl.

Anna Jones was not stupid. This was not an opinion but rather an indisputable fact that was evident to anyone who bothered to watch her for more than five minutes. It was only when she stood beside him, standing carefully in his shadow that she began to fade into the background. When they looked at her, at them, sitting together at lunch they saw the foreign girl watching him with a bemused and utterly befuddled expression. The juxtaposition shielded her and while she would always remain ‘smart’ to outsiders she would never be brilliant.

He knew differently. She thought differently than he did, she was less refined, more raw, and absolutely ruthless in her pragmatism. He hesitated to use the words smart, intelligent, or even brilliant because while they all applied more or less they did not catch the essence of her thoughts. No, clever, she was very clever. She was the fox that saw the gleaming silver traps surrounding the live bait, she eyed it carefully, before carefully treading around it. Of course with that mental image there came the subsequent image of her as a coyote stuck in a trap methodically biting her own leg off for survival. The trouble was that both applied very well and sometimes it was very difficult to tell the difference.

And here she was, the omniscient prophet, watching reality television with a god of death in hysterics.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Both viewers abruptly turned their heads the girl nearly falling off the couch in shock. Clearly she hadn’t been expecting him for a while and had immediately proceeded to go into panic pragmatic mode; mentally preparing herself to bite off her own leg if it meant saving herself from death.

“You come to watch with us Light?” Ryuk asked as the girl was still too horrified and speechless to say anything.

“…No.” He looked down at Anna with cold eyes, “Since when do you spend time with Ryuk?”

She looked somewhat confused and looked over her shoulder at the death god and then back to Light, “Uh… I don’t really… This is a new thing?”

 He made his way over to the couch and sat down next to where she had collapsed. She looked up at him with terrified eyes, remaining stock still but her fingers twitching with the effort of not running and jumping out the window for cover.

“I thought you only watched soap operas.” Light commented drily, his eyebrows raising slightly as he noted the television program.

She opened her mouth and closed it and then looked at the television, “…I don’t really have a preference. To be honest I think your television is even worse than mine, or maybe that’s just the soap operas talking…” She trailed off clearly trying to think of something, anything, to say that would tell her what the hell Light was doing lounging beside her in a chair watching reality television.

Light chose not to address her fears, “Ryuga Hideki is a particular brand of awful. I do not understand what Sayu sees in him.”

Anna Jones’ face twisted into a peculiar expression of complete terror combined with her normal dry expression and overall looked incredibly awkward, “It’s probably the brooding and the hair. You know those brooding guys, gotta love em… Light, why are we talking?”

Light simply looked at her for a few moments. He wondered how old she really was, she’d never told him. There were times when she looked a few years younger than him, little older than a child, and that perhaps in that other world she really had been nothing but a school girl. She was wearing herself thin with the effort of preserving all her masks.

He then held out his hand to help her regain her position on the couch, she took it cautiously and continued to look at him with those fearful and curious eyes. He spoke softly, “I balanced the outcomes, it suits my purpose more if the man outside lives.”  

“Why?” She asked bluntly but not in an accusing tone, but rather a wondering tone, as if she believed him but could not fathom why she did.

“Because I did recognize that something must change.” Light said, “And in recognizing that fact I must act on it if I am to succeed.”

She watched him warily, as if appraising him for the first time, not based on her own expectations from the books she had read but from her own experiences in this reality. Through her eyes he saw himself shed his one-dimensional layers and gain more substance.

“…I didn’t think you would listen to me.” She said finally with a small, almost unnoticeable, smile.

“I didn’t think Lind L. Taylor’s death would prove such a nuisance.” Light said with a wave of his hand as if dismissing the event and turned his attention to the television instead. She sat and watched him in silence, that wary, confused, and almost awed expression still on her face. Finally she, too, turned back to the television.

He almost expected her to state something obvious, blunt and defining, perhaps that she wasn’t his accomplice, that she did not want or expect Kira to succeed, or that she would abandon his side for L’s at the nearest and safest opportunity. She didn’t though, she simply watched as a stranger won extravagant prizes by making his way through an obstacle course.  

 Finally she said with that familiar frankness, “Reality is a funny thing, isn’t it Light?”

Looking at the television he had to agree, “I suppose it is.”

* * *

There were several things she would not have predicted in her life. The major one was being sucked into the world of Death Note spontaneously without any idea of how she got there, she still hadn’t gotten over that. The other was the growing suspicion that Light Yagami, Kira, was her best friend.

She’d never really had best friends before the Death Note disaster, she had good friends and friends but not _best_ friends. Best friends were the people you shared your deepest darkest secrets with, the ones you had slumber parties with while you asked for advice on boys you liked and sometimes even things that actually mattered, and in her life she’d found that she just didn’t have them. It hadn’t really mattered or even occurred to her until now because she’d recently started suspecting that Light might fit into that category.

It’d started that night they agreed that Raye Penber should live out the life-span floating above his head. Light had started acting different around her, less like a jailor and more like a friend. He’d sit with her and Sayu and watch soap operas starring Ryuga Hideki, lounging and making disparaging comments every once in a while looking bored out of his mind but still sitting with them, and she had the nagging suspicion that this was not a deleted scene from the manga or anime and that Light didn’t usually watch television with his sister. He’d also taken it upon himself to introduce her to Japanese culture that didn’t come from the Terminator (she’d never really told him that despite saying “Sayonara” once the Terminator was really about robots from the future) and was taking her around Tokyo visiting various places.

She’d found herself, almost without her awareness, spending more time with Light than she ever had before. She hadn’t noticed for the longest time, it had seemed natural almost, to just follow him everywhere in school and to find him in that fake home they lived in. He was the only thing that was real after all, the only anchor to her true situation, why wouldn’t she follow him. 

It was one day at lunch in school, sitting across from Light watching him eat a sandwich, that she realized that something had changed.

They were discussing pop-culture of all things. After the first few weeks she had finally gotten around to searching the internet (the slow, terrible, irritating internet that existed in the nineties) and had found that most of the things she was familiar with didn’t actually exist. No Star Wars, no Clint Eastwood, no David Bowie, no Michael Jackson even. If she hadn’t been living with a serial killer who used a magical notebook and his shinigami shadow then that alone would have convinced her she was in another universe.

She had decided to grill Light on the subject but to her disappointment he turned out to be an uninformed cad, “What do you mean you don’t watch any movies? Do you seriously just sit in your room and plot all day?”

“I have better things to do than television.” Light said with a shrug, biting into his sandwich and glancing at the rest of the student population, “Most normal people do.”

“Do not use yourself as the model of perfect teenager, Light.” She said scathingly waving her own sandwich in her face instead of an outraged finger, “We both know that doesn’t work. Besides I have checked and people seem to love stupid horror films as much in this world as they do in mine.”

Light shrugged as if to point out that to most people he was the perfect teenager, not a hair out of place. That was what was so frustrating, somehow in spite of eating lunch alone most days he still managed to appear normal, no not normal but popular. People flocked to him naturally, like a light on the porch that drew in the moths from miles around. They didn’t seem to notice that he only talked to them sparingly about artificial things, smiled a little too much, and laughed at jokes that weren’t funny. He could walk up to any one of them and ask them if they wanted to hit the town on the weekend and they would say yes without a second thought.

“Fictional stories created to escape reality don’t hold much appeal to me.” Light said coldly, “Seems almost defeatist in a way.”

She wanted to ask him if he had always been like this or if this was just the magical notebook talking. Instead surrounded by teenagers who were blissfully unaware of Kira’s presence she glared slightly and went back to eating food. 

“If it offends you that much I’m sure we can rent one of your precious films.” Light said offhandedly.

It was those words. As if a switch had been flipped in her mind and she knew in an instant a single truth. He would never have said that to her, to anyone, before. Not without a cheerful smile from a practiced actor or a casual dismissal that made it feel as if she hadn’t just been brushed off.

He noticed her lack of response and her blank stare, “What?”

There it was again, no pretense, but blank blunt honesty. His disdain plainly evident in his eyes and posture and his words, in everything as he looked at her as if he thought she was the greatest idiot he had ever seen.

Unable to think of anything she blurted her thoughts, “You never stare at anyone else like they’re an idiot.”

An eyebrow raised and he smiled casually, “They tend to be less persistent in their desire to explain the merits of television and the like.”

He seemed oblivious. Perhaps he didn’t notice it himself but only subconsciously allowed himself to relax enough around her to display honesty, to show her a small fraction of the face behind the mask. And then she knew why. He had nothing to hide from her, no reason to, she already knew his greatest secret and he had ensured more or less that she would not be speaking it any time soon. It was more than that even, with their accord over Lind L. Taylor and Raye Penber they had reached some sort of truce, not a true one, but a slight one. He had realized that she did not have to be played like a chess piece, carefully manipulated into place, because she saw all the moves he could allow himself transparency.

Which lead to a disturbing thought, “Are we friends?”

A slight pause, as if stunned on his part, and then a single word, “No.”

But they were, they really were, and it was only becoming more evident as time went on. Perhaps he hadn’t realized he lied even, because Light Yagami didn’t have friends, but even unwitting it was still a lie.

It was more than Light though, it was also her. She had caught herself, more than once, seeking out Light’s company. Asking around the school for him, looking for him in the house, and only realizing what she was doing once she had already begun her search. When she wanted to vent philosophy, talk about anything that wasn’t small talk, she always looked for him and no one else. He didn’t know her name and if she was careful enough he never would but he knew her better than anyone else in this world. That thought alone was terrifying.

Thinking about her situation was exhausting, she had adopted a policy of avoiding thinking about politics (Kira) if it wasn’t really necessary. Besides, any more panic thought sessions and it’d reflect in her school work and if she gave any hint of distress to the mindless public Light would kill her. No pressure, or anything. Thus she usually saved these moments of self-reflection for late at night after Light had descended into murder mode and had locked the door to his room.

She was now in one of those moments of deep reflection or rather she was procrastinating learning to read a language she had never heard or understood. Japanese, why did it have to be Japanese? If it had at least been a Romantic language or Germanic or anything that had some common base with English it would have at least been easier. She was frying her brains trying not to be illiterate and granted her vocabulary had improved massively with the effort she was putting in but it did nothing for her grammar.

Looking at her own poorly written characters (Light said she wrote like a drunkard) she contemplated her life here. She spent so much time thinking about her possible death that she hadn’t really considered how she was living, those moments between plotting, and now it seemed startlingly obvious. She was one of those goddamned heroines stuck in the castle with the nasty beast; only if she came to truly love the beast he wouldn’t turn into a handsome prince he’d just stay a serial killer with a god-complex. She’d always had a problem with Beauty and the Beast, too boring, too unrealistic, too predictable, and somehow through an act of god she’d managed to turn Death Note into just that.

Stuck in a castle with the villain and no one to talk to who would understand her plight, nowhere to run, and nothing at all to do with her free time other than pester him. The problem was her view of him hadn’t changed she had just started gravitating toward him naturally, pulled in by that ineffable charisma of his. Why would she seek him out when she knew what he was capable of, what he was doing at this very moment? He had some power, not just over her but over everyone, a magnetic appeal that needed no word, no expression, it was in his aura. He drew people to himself without any awareness on his part.

How much longer until she was just like those girls at school? Until she was like Naomi Misora? She’d never understood how Naomi had done it, how she’d given him her name, her true name after a single conversation? She had known just as clearly as Anna Jones knew that a single mistake could cost her life, a single slip even to a stranger, even to a charming young man, but she had still done it. So intelligent, so very wary, and dead in a moment.

Why?

What had he done, said, been to make her lose in that moment?

If Naomi Misora could lose to him then so could Anna Jones. Naomi Misora had only lasted a single conversation, Raye Penber a bus ride, how long could Anna Jones last when trapped in a house with him? Sure she had an edge, she _knew_ that Light was Kira where they only saw a faceless stranger, but even so there had been others that had _known_ all along and they had still died. L had never given Light his name but somewhere in there, in the midst of their battle, he had let his guard down and died for it. Somewhere there had been a casual mistake, almost unnoticeable, that had led to his end.

She was playing a slow game now with a chess master. She had to play the friend without being the friend all the while keeping up with the menial obstacles placed in her path, each small hurdle distracting from the ultimate endgame.

But for a moment with the paper of her scribbles in front of her she saw the entire board spread in front of her, and at the other end golden eyes smiling across at her. For once she did not see imminent failure or taxing work ahead of her but rather a slow and strenuous path that she would walk, not with ease but not an unbearable one either.

It wasn’t the journey of a genius, someone who thought they had all the answers, but a hard worker, who looked past the small steps and saw the horizon in the distance.

Philosophy clearly wasn’t her strong suit, it’d be better if she just focused on the Japanese.


	9. Chapter 9

_“A note on Light’s many secret high school admirers, there are many. Apparently as Light’s wingman I have now gained the reputation of expert on Light, this apparently means that whenever anyone wants Light to notice them they come to me. And I have to explain to them, without telling them that Light doesn’t have feelings or a soul, why he hasn’t noticed their interest. This, among all other things, is the most awkward thing about my relationship with Light Yagami.”_

* * *

His father didn’t meet Anna until winter, long after Lind L. Taylor’s televised scandal, and the agent’s disappearance. Anna had never asked after his father, only mentioned him in passing, as she did with anyone who wasn’t truly involved in Kira’s game. Whether she thought about him beyond that was hard to tell, she tended to convey only her thoughts on the mundane, the irrelevant, and the absolutely necessary and Soichiro Yagami was not on that list. As for his father, the man barely had time for his own children let alone to meet the American stranger who had taken up temporary residence, he passed her once or twice early in the morning or late at night, and they’d nod to one another but other than a good day or a goodbye no words were actually exchanged. She would look out after him as he walked past her with a strange look in her eye, almost as if she was about to say something, but then she’d turn away and the spark of a thought was gone.

He wondered if they were looking at the same thing.

Work had taken its toll on his father, as Light had known it would. Still though, the physical signs of the prolonged stress were more pronounced than he thought they would be. His hair had gone almost all gray, with each day the investigation dragged on a little piece of him withered.

With little results and more invasion of privacy than was considered legal in the worst of times L was slowly but surely pushing Japan’s homicide division to the edge. Light had been tracking the numbers and slowly but surely the number of employees dropped off as the frustrated workers transferred to different departments or quit altogether.

His father would remain though, until the very end, even when there were no men standing beside him he would sit in that empty office and follow L’s leads.  He’d begun to wonder how long his father would survive this, but then, hadn’t he already declared his family expendable?

He had little time to spare thoughts for his family, especially in the midst of being followed and the aftermath of Lind L. Taylor’s death, but recently (in this calm in the storm) he found himself reflecting on what his personal future might be more and more often. His father had almost stopped coming home altogether and he wondered, when the Kira case continued to escalate and lengthen in time, if this would continue or if he would eventually admit partial defeat. For the moment though, he seemed determined to see it through until the bitter end.

It was a surprise then, the night his father finally made it home in time for dinner. They went out of their way to set the tables, to create the illusion of family unity, and wait smilingly for him to return home. Anna had looked at all this with raised eyebrows, but had said nothing, instead picking up a pair of chopsticks with a small frown that predicted future coordination issues.

And though the girl with the red hair and the blue eyes didn’t speak a word of it at the table Light knew exactly what she’d say. This is the play, she’d motion to everything, the room the people the plates. She’d turn to the table, these are the props, all plastic you see? She’d move to Sayu, to his mother, these are the characters. Finally she’d stop before him, and this is the director, see how he places them all? But then, he’d ask in return, what are you supposed to be? And she’d smile, that cad who never learned the lines.

Sayu talked about school and friends, Light about upcoming exams, and Anna dutifully attempted to pick up rice gracefully via chopsticks (a skill she never seemed quite able to master). Meanwhile their father looked at them all with dead eyes, finally though as the small talk ended his eyes drifted to the stranger in their midst, the red-headed school girl.

“Jones, isn’t it?” He asked, Anna blinked and put aside her attempts to eat with poise for the moment. She nodded as if unsure what to do with that kind of a question.

He gave her a worn smile, one that lacked compassion or patience, it was the smile one gave out of politeness or the feeling that they should do something with their expression. His intent was clear, she was inconvenient but otherwise unimportant, in the way where she shouldn’t be. This night was for his family, not for this stranger caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to meet properly.” He continued, “Things have been… busy at work.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine.” Anna said with a wave of her hand, “Believe me school’s been busy too. Well, I guess not in the same way.” She added sheepishly before looking back at her food as if she wanted nothing more than to disappear inside it.

“Yes, I suppose not.” He said and finally came to his point, “If you don’t mind there are some matters I’d like to discuss privately with my family.” That smile again, the one that seemed to apologize but really said nothing.

She stared at him for a moment, seemingly oblivious to being politely told to get out, and then she stood and began to clear her place, “Of course, sorry, I didn’t realize. You haven’t been here in a while and I should have… Well, um yeah, anyway I’ll be upstairs if anyone needs me.”

And the actor who didn’t know her lines gracefully bowed and made her way off the stage. Somehow though, even though she gave all appearance of stumbling through his play, he knew that she had seen this scene before and could easily relate back, if asked, every word spoken from this point on.

“She’s an odd girl.” Soichiro mentioned briefly as he watched her go.

Sayu shrugged, “Yeah, well, she’s also really nice though. And really smart, too, I guess.” Sayu then fiddled with her food looking slightly thoughtful as she thought back to the few times Anna had helped with geometry.

Light said nothing, he found that he didn’t want to discuss Anna Jones and the shows she put on for their entertainment. Suddenly it was all very exhausting, these little scenes he had to participate in. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to silently exit, just as she had, his lines filled by the understudy as he took his leave of the stage. It was only a moment though.

“You had something you wanted to talk about, dad?”

“You know that I’ve been working late recently, this is because I’ve been assigned to the Kira case.”

So he finally told them, of course they all had known more or less, even Sayu hadn’t stopped to ask why her dad was spending so much time at the office. They had all more or less assumed that he had been involved at least on some level in the Kira case, still they each pretended as if they hadn’t known or acknowledged this fact long ago.

“No, dad, you can’t!” Sayu said, “It’s too dangerous!”

But of course even Sayu must have known that he would ignore this, as he would ignore any attempt to sway him from the Kira case. His mother sat there, looking at his father with resignation, knowing that though it would most likely be the death of him there was nothing she could say to stop him. What would Light say though? The Light Yagami he had been before the notebook, would he have seen the pointlessness in the endeavor, no he would have stood and told his father how proud he was of him.

And so Light did precisely that, noticing the lack of reaction to his statement, all the while thinking that only one other person would have noticed how shallow his persona seemed and she had left the stage halfway through the scene.

He looked at all these people surrounding him, and he remembered the day he sat in that warehouse with a box on fire, the day he had declared so easily that he would burn them all if necessary. Somehow, even watching them now, he knew that this declaration hadn’t wavered in the slightest and that it probably never would.

His father smiled in response, knowing he could count on his son’s support, while his sister looked dismayed and his mother’s resignation settled in.

All the world’s a stage, he thought as he suppressed a bitter smile.

* * *

“What the hell?” Anna Jones, illiterate refugee from another universe who barely even thought her real name anymore, looked down at her literature paper with dumbfounded confusion. She looked around the classroom to see if anyone else was having a moment, but things seemed really normal, well as normal as they ever were.

Ryuk was floating ominously behind everyone like the shadow of death, just lurking out of sight, moving in and out of the classroom seemingly at random as he tried to make his way through yet another boring day. Although, Ryuk did confess to her one time out of Light’s hearing that he was never _really_ bored, he just sometimes wished Light would speed things up a little in his quest for world domination. Light was gazing out the window with all the focus of a zombie, his brain had probably left the building and made its way into that magical land where he plotted moves against L in the most intricate game of imaginary Risk ever created hours ago, and was currently winning the staring contest with his own reflection. Several girls were doodling in the margins of their notebooks; each writing their and Light’s initials as they imagined what their future wedding would be like. The rest of the class was either attempting not to fall asleep or was actually paying attention to what the teacher said.

All in all, pretty much all the everyday occurrences had been checked off her list for the day, all that was left was for Light to drag her into a corner of the cafeteria where they would awkwardly eat lunch by themselves and for one of Light’s admirers to come to her and demand to know the truth about the relationship between Anna Jones and Light Yagami. (They all either thought they were secretly dating, which was a horrifying prospect, or tried to use her to pass messages on to Light. It was getting seriously weird and she and Light had to have a long discussion some time but right now was not the time to be worrying about Light’s love life and her involvement in it.)

So it wasn’t really anything major that was making her question the state of her reality, again, just a letter written in ink on the top of her essay.

Somehow, beyond all conceivable explanations, Anna Jones had gotten one hundred percent on her essay. There were many problems with this. One thing was that she could barely write or read Japanese, sure she could babble like a nine year old on the best of days (she had now progressed to the point where she could write sentences about her cat and her desire to go to the beach) but she still felt she wholly deserved Light’s labeling her as illiterate. She’d tried to disguise this fact from the various teachers throughout her days at high school by hiding in the back of the room, faking being asleep in class, and developing the most obnoxious stammer possible whenever asked to read aloud. She’d always gotten the distinct feeling that it wasn’t working and they were going to ship her back to America where she’d be promptly disposed of by some terrible accident on Light’s behalf.

The other reason was that she hadn’t read the book. Oh sure she’d meant to, but then it had been so long and in Japanese too, and it had been so very boring. It was one of those existential novels, or something, she hadn’t made it very far but the hipster of the main character seemed pretty down on society and it really looked like it was heading in that direction. So after a few attempts she’d decided to go watch television and look it up on Wikipedia or Sparknotes, unfortunately she’d forgotten that Death Note took place in the late nineties when the internet barely existed. Also it was in an alternate dimension, which might not have helped things.

So she’d cranked out the most pathetic excuse of a paper in English or in Japanese all while using vocabulary that would cause a kindergartener to shake its head in pity. Worse it had been during one of those periods where Light was in no mood to edit, ever since Raye Penber had not died Light had been pretty antsy over the fact that L hadn’t appeared to have done anything, and would probably have thrown her out the window if she’d even suggested he write it for her. She’d figured she could afford to fail at least one essay without being thrown out of the program and deported. She’d pretty much been resigned to an “F for fantastic!”

She checked the name on the paper, wondering if they had given her someone else’s by mistake, but nope there was Anna Jones written in English lettering (after debating a few weeks she’d decided that she wouldn’t bother to learn how the hell Anna Jones translated into Japanese characters so that she didn’t sound like an uncultured ass). What she wouldn’t give for Spanish again, she’d never paid attention and forgotten all of it but there was something so comforting about romantic languages that she could vaguely read.

She dropped the paper on her desk and closed her mouth before a bird decided to nest there. She let her eyes drift to the teacher who had turned back to their latest assignment, the next book that she hadn’t bothered to read because it looked long and boring and in Japanese. He didn’t look back at her, in fact barely acknowledged her presence at all; he just went on lecturing about the various themes presented within the story. Her eyes flickered to Light who was still staring out with all the expression and feeling one usually reserves for watching paint dry.

Fidgeting in her seat she tried to calm the sudden need to run over to Light’s desk and to demand to know why he was bribing her teachers. Not only would it look really weird but the thing was that he probably hadn’t, actually not probably she knew he hadn’t, it probably wasn’t a course of action he had even considered. No, there weren’t any signs of deceit in any of them, it was as if none of them found this situation horribly wrong.

So how the hell did she get an A?

She flipped through the paper, rereading it with as much subtlety as she could muster, and yes it was just as shitty as she remembered it being. Maybe the teacher had a brain tumor and hadn’t realized it yet.

It was with that thought in mind that she waited through the rest of the class, answering questions every now and then with the best of her ability, and eventually made her way up to the teacher to ask about her grade. She stood awkwardly in front his desk as the other students shuffled their way out the door, Light spared her a questioning glance at her back, paused for a moment and then made his way to wait beside the door until she was done. Eventually the teacher turned his attention to her, and then smiled as if she was a particularly beloved student instead rather than the girl who slept until the bell rang and then drowsily pulled her way through class.

“Hey, sensei…” She said trailing off awkwardly as she wondered if she was really about to do this or not, “I was wondering if we could talk about my paper for a few minutes.”

“Yes, it was quite a wonderful paper too, very insightful.” The man smiled, “You know, your essay has changed the entire way I look at the novel now.”

All she could see was the concluding line in her essay running through her mind, “And the book was really good and stuff.” Because clearly that was exactly what he was referring to.

“Oh, well, I’m glad you liked it?” She said, no asked because she was really too confused to say anything in confidence. “Are you sure it was that good though, I mean…” Here she paused and looked at Light who was waiting with the patience of a martyr beside the door, “Light’s had to have been better, right?”

The man smiled conspiratorially, “Mr. Yagami is quite gifted Ms. Jones, and his paper like yours was excellent to read, but if you really must know I felt yours had just a bit more depth.”

He must have some sort of brain tumor.

“Erm, okay.” Was all she managed to get out of that, she raised up a hand awkwardly to wave goodbye, “well, I’m gonna go get some lunch now. Thanks for going over that with me.”

With that she turned almost mechanically on her heel and began to walk rather stiffly toward the door before the universe decided to get any weirder on her.

“Oh, before you go Ms. Jones,” The man said, “I’d heard you were applying to university in Japan and I wanted to wish you the best of luck on the entrance exams.”

And then she stopped and turned around again to face the man who did not look like he’d said a really bad joke.

“What?” She asked, “But I…”

“The rumors are all over the school Ms. Jones, it’s quite an ambitious goal but I believe you are fully capable.”

She wanted to say that, no she was in fact not capable as she couldn’t read. She also wanted to say that she had every intention, as soon as this fake exchange program ended, to haul ass back to fake America and attend whatever university Anna Jones had been accepted to. She also wanted to say that even if she did stay in Japan that didn’t necessitate attending university. Instead of that all that came out was a dumbfounded question.

“…Really?”

He just smiled indulgently at her and then waved her off and again she mechanically turned around to walk out the door with Light and the Shinigami in tow. She walked her way through till lunch as a zombie trying to reconcile the fact that her grades did not at all reflect her effort and or assignments. Finally when Light grabbed the table in the corner she began to think again.

“Did you brainwash your teacher?” She asked, normally she didn’t talk politics with Light at school. This meant mentioning anything that might relate to him being Kira or Kira in general but she really couldn’t wait on this.

“What?” Light asked abruptly before pulling on a sheepish expression in case anyone was watching, “Anna, why would I need to brainwash a teacher? I’m the number one student in Japan.”

“Yeah, well, according to my latest essay grade you’re not.” Anna said as she began to eat lunch. Light’s expression became more thoughtful, he regarded her carefully, watching as she tried to eat her lunch as casually as possible.

“Really?” Light asked, but in a tone that was not curious at all rather as if he had suspected this  might happen.

“I know, I said the same thing to the teacher.” Anna said her complete bafflement returning, “I mean I didn’t even read the book, I don’t even really remember what the book was about, some guy contemplating life and death and it was so boring and in Japanese.”

She thought back to the rumor that he had heard, of her attending university in Japan, and the bafflement faded to something more sinister. She had been living one day at a time, not even thinking about universities or what she would do after high school ended. She had been so focused on the present that it hadn’t appeared even as an issue to her. Sometimes she vaguely wondered if Anna Jones even had parents or a life back in America, or if she was just a cardboard cutout, whose background had been filled in well enough to dispel any doubts but who had no true place in the world. She had wondered if Light would allow her to leave for America at all, or if he would have no control over it. She never imagined that she would attend a university in Japan.

Light said nothing, he continued to stare into nothingness where his thoughts tangled themselves into a briar, leaving Anna to drop her slightly forced smile altogether. Finally he seemed to refocus on her and gave a somewhat grim smile.

“I think, Anna Jones, that your god may be back.”


	10. Chapter 10

_“There are days when I totally get Cassandra, and then there are the days where I feel like I just would have shipped out of Troy and bought a time share in Athens. Because sometimes when you know that you’ve been cursed by Apollo so that no one will listen, you know it’s time to go watch really trashy television in your basement.”_

* * *

In spite of her truly momentous efforts not to take the entrance exams to To-Oh University Anna Jones did accompany him to its entrance.

It was strange, glancing at her every once in a while as Light strolled beneath the cherry blossoms taking his time before hours of testing would begin, that he still couldn’t tell her age. She seemed her most alien in moments like these, bright red hair pulled back into a haphazard attempt at a braid, pastel sweater thrown over a pair of jean shorts as if attempting to appear purposely ruffled but coming off more like she had just rolled out of bed and a thrift store, and her eyes a softer paler blue than he remembered. There were so many different Annas, she once asked him during this latest lull in the Kira case how he managed to keep track of all his different faces, every once in a while he itched to ask her the same because she was far worse at it than he was. There was some truth to the Light Yagami his family and even his friends saw, before Kira that Light had been all there was, true he had some lingering resentment and the overwhelming boredom but it hadn’t been an act. Should he lose memory of the notebook he would no doubt revert to that Light once again, it wasn’t so much a lie as it was a step back in his own past.

They reached the entrance, Anna putting her hands on her hips and observing the scenery, possibly marking for changes in what she herself had been presented in another dimension. Behind them Ryuk hovered as an invisible feathered shadow, his ever present grin plastered to his face but dimmed slightly by the fact that this had absolutely nothing to do with Kira and that L had yet to show his face.

Before Light could begin to head in Ryuk spoke, “Hey, Anna, you sure you aren’t going to take that test?”

Anna had learned fairly early on not to instinctively open her mouth to answer Ryuk’s questions or respond to him in any manner in public.

After the agent episode where Ryuk had decided Anna Jones was fairly interesting he had tried quite frequently hoping that some action might be spurred by her mistakes if L wasn’t willing to do anything fun. Unfortunately for Ryuk, he hadn’t counted on Anna Jones’ almost frightening amount of grace under pressure and was witness to an acting talent that rivalled Light’s own.

However, this proved to be one of the few times Ryuk showed tenacity.

Light was curious as well, though. He hadn’t expected her to accompany him that morning and yet she had joined him for breakfast and the subsequent trip to the university as if there was nothing more natural in the world. So he decided to humor Ryuk and repeat the question in his own less obnoxious manner.

“You’re registered for the exam,” Light commented remembering that brief moment of the girl in front of a laptop seeing her own name where it should have never been without her consent, “Are you going to take it?”

After discovering that God apparently wanted her to be presented as on par with Yagami Light, the number one student in Japan as Anna Jones was fond of proclaiming, she had decided that all school work could be completely thrown out the window. It wasn’t so much an act of laziness, although she spent her latter school days watching television and searching for shows about robots in space, but rather a brutal testing or reality. Like Light had done with the notebook she was pushing and pulling at the seams of the dimension to find the breaking point. How far would these bizarre manipulations extend? Homework she never turned in was returned with full credit given, classes she had never attended remembered her presence, and applications she had never filed were sent. Each time her face would fall a little further as the bars of her prison slowly but surely set themselves in place.

In truth Light had expected her to run in the beginning, in spite of her panic at being stranded in another country, he hadn’t been surprised to find her each morning still in Japan but he had wondered about it occasionally. Now he thought she may have been unwilling to find out if she was unable to leave at all.

She hadn’t told him, probably was terrified he would attempt to stop her, but Ryuk had whispered in his ear of a plane ticket to Los Angeles that had appeared for a fraction of a second only to disappear as if it had never existed. He did not comment on the defeated exhaustion he found in her eyes the next morning, she did not either.

Now she looked almost casual, as if she had come to accept her situation, had accepted it long before she knew it existed and shrugged, “Well, you know me and Japanese, while we’re vague acquaintances now I’m pretty sure that bitch would still poison my Kool-Aid if I let her. Besides, why would I take a god-awful boring exam for hours when I can let Jehova take it for me?”

Light couldn’t help but smile at her attempt at levity in the form of Anna Jones’ ridiculous bravado. “Well then, will you be here when I finish?”

“Sure,” Here almost hesitantly she reached a hand out to his and said, “I’d wish you luck, but let’s face it, you could solve equations with your left hand, write an essay with your right, watch a mini television covertly, and eat potato chips dramatically all at the same time. The number one student in Japan does not lose face to a mere entrance exam.”

(There were moments recently where she would say things like this, as if they were references he should understand, leaving him to wonder if that was somehow supposed to be a compliment.

She once said, after he had refused to believe her complaints about the girls lined up to date him in high school, that he had told Ryuk that he was popular with the ladies and good with his hands and that at one point in time he dated at least four girls at once one of those being a model.

He was still unsure whether he should be flattered or somewhat dubious that he would ever take such a course of action.)

“Thank you.” He decided to take the compliment for what it was intended to be rather than what it actually was and took her hand before turning to head inside.

Before he entered he heard a few final parting words from Anna Jones. She was still standing where he had left her, Ryuk hovering behind, and on her face was a curious hesitance that he hadn’t seen for many months so that her words sounded ominous even when there was no threat hidden in them, “Let me know if you see anyone interesting, okay?”

Even as he stepped in the door his mind unwillingly turned back to that night months ago when a red headed stranger had asked in a locked bedroom, “Have you met a man named Lind L. Taylor yet?”

Another question he didn’t understand and he could already feel Troy burning around him. His eyes searched the room as soon as he entered.

* * *

Nothing had happened and it was weirding her out.

Sitting in a café eating ramen she thought over her situation even as Ryuk cackled beside her. She was right in that Ryuk would follow her rather than watch Light take a test for hours, even though she wouldn’t acknowledge his presence at least she would be doing something, kind of. People watching meant he was less bored than usual and a less bored Ryuk was a tolerable one.

She guessed that without Raye Penber and then Naomi Misora’s interference L would never had had a reason to narrow his search to Light. Still, subconsciously she must have thought that somehow in some impossible manner the list of suspects would still narrow to one. She’d found herself disturbed by the lack of action, the lack of hidden cameras and bugs, she found herself checking Light’s doorknob before he did and looking for lead on the floor. There were no cameras, not even a hint of a cameras, and slowly but surely the day of Light’s admission to To-Oh approached.

She’d been forced to review the Kira case to look beyond the game of cat and mouse, those incredible almost fantastical deductions, and see what could be logically concluded from the events that had taken place so far.

Light often remarked that L knew Kira had a connection to the police, a rather large one at that. The hacking had been a dead giveaway on Light’s part but it had been intentional doing its trick even without the FBI agent’s help in alienating most of the homicide division. Before locating Light L had claimed that Kira was young, most likely a student based on his schedule, and while highly intelligent was also childish and hated losing. Childish wasn’t a word she’d use to describe Light but he definitely hated losing. A clear example was this were his mini temper tantrums after discovering that when she put absolutely no work into school she sometimes got more praise than he did on exams, because really you can’t accept losing to Deus ex Machina then you have some clear competitive issues.  

That final step though, Raye Penber’s reaching hand in the train station, Naomi Misora’s disappearance, that final click that allowed him to look in on the families of those Raye Penber had been following and from there onto Light Yagami was missing. But in the meantime would he give up?

How could there exist a universe where Light wasn’t the main Kira suspect?

She probably shouldn’t have asked Light to tell her if he saw L or not but this would be proof, definitive proof that L suspected Light, that she hadn’t somehow stalled the Kira case in exchange for a handful of FBI agents.

What was she going to do?

She wondered if this was going to be the rest of her life, this desperate waiting, living with herself as she let Kira kill and somehow didn’t care about it. As she slowly but surely became apathetic and started reaching out to Light because he was the only one who understood and she was so damn tired of being afraid.

She had tried to get out she had tried and failed and now wondered if she would ever build up the nerve to try again.

There was nothing left, she was trapped in Japan, and if L didn’t suspect Light was Kira then she was caught in a trap of her own making.

“What the hell am I doing?” She said to herself, not caring for a moment that she was seemingly alone at a table aside from her ramen. Nobody was really looking at her anyway, maybe for a few seconds, but not enough to notice her talking to herself.

Maybe she should have just taken the goddammed test and seen for herself. At this point she felt like she was just proving a point rather than expecting anything to come of it. At least then she’d know, feel reassured that things were on some kind of track, that she could predict something instead of this groping in the dark.

At least, she reassured herself, she wouldn’t be Light’s secret wingman in college. Those girls would have to get their own dates because Anna Jones was sure as hell not going to do it for them even if she was mysteriously forced into Japanese university by a vengeful spirit. Not that they had issues doing it in canon without her presence, Light had lacked nothing in attention from the women. Not that Light had believed her tales of his days as Casanova so far; every time she brought it up he’d give her the dubious raised eyebrow look and then glanced at Ryuk as if to silently convey doubts about her sanity. The only women Light graced his presence with on a consistent basis were Sayu and Anna herself, hardly good candidates to go and get laid, or so Light had said but in a fancier more Light-esq manner.

In the end Light didn’t believe half the stories she told about him. He didn’t believe the womanizing, he didn’t believe that he had ever told Ryuk about the womanizing, he didn’t believe the porn reading in his room like he was flipping through a magazine, and he certainly didn’t believe the dramatic penmanship when he got overexcited about killing people. Sure most of it was out of context, her not having actually relayed any of the plot to him, but the truth was that Light’s dramatics were the most ridiculous thing she’d ever seen.

She wondered if he’d continue to be like that even without L’s intervention. Would he grow bored of it, if L never showed? Would he look around at his Garden of Eden and realize that Machiavelli could never have built paradise? Where would they be, in the years to come, if she was still there at all?

She was very tired of all this shit.

Again, she asked herself, why couldn’t it have been Ouran High School Host Club?

Behind her Ryuk was cackling at her slight mental break down. Light may write dramatically but apparently her periodic moments of stress and despair were far more entertaining to the god of death.

Well she wasn’t getting much thinking done on her own anyway, she might as well vent to Ryuk about her problems. She stood dramatically and made her way to the restroom, making sure Ryuk was following her, locking the door behind her as soon as she entered.

She wouldn’t say that she and Ryuk were bros now but they did have an understanding of sorts. Every once in a while when Light was out of the office they’d catch up on the score of Kira vs. L and discuss what might happen next. For Ryuk it was a way to entertain himself while things were in a rut for Anna it was a way for her to try to convince herself that she was a secret detective who wasn’t out of her league and who wasn’t destroying the universe.

“So, Ryuk, any news on Light’s end about L?”

Ryuk, it looked like, was ready to lay down the dirt.

“Oh yeah, the entire homicide division quit.” Ryuk said his grin widening, “Light said that L must pushed them over the edge, or they realized the whole face name thing and that L doesn’t show anyone either of them, and poof in one day no more police for L.”

“Wait, everyone? Even Light’s dad?!” She said somewhat flabbergasted, okay a lot flabbergasted, she couldn’t see how her presence could have affected Soichiro Yagami’s feelings on the Kira case. There had been a couple of awkward dinners and run ins in the hallway but she’d rarely even talked to the guy.

“Well, no, from what Light could tell a couple of guys stayed on as a task-team… force…”

Okay, good to know that much hadn’t changed. Although perhaps it would have been better for Light and everyone else if Soichiro wasn’t on the Kira case, it destroyed his health and eventually killed him. Perhaps she should have done something to prevent his joining, since his death hadn’t been immediate in the sense that Raye Penber’s and Naomi Misora’s were she hadn’t considered altering his destiny for the time being.

She didn’t want to think about that right now though. She turned to her next thought, “So I guess no hacking for Light anymore, right? If he hacked now, with L’s firewalls, he’d be able to pinpoint it to one of the task members. Who knows they probably don’t even share leads in the database anymore.”

This was later than she had expected. The task force had been formed during Naomi Misora’s death, that was a few months ago. She couldn’t remember what the breaking point had been for the homicide division, whether it had been the FBI agents or something else, but whatever it was she had pushed it back slightly.

“Was something else supposed to happen?” Ryuk asked.

“Oh yeah, shit was supposed to go down.” She continued to frown, the cameras she was so bothered by the cameras. She hadn’t really wanted to be filmed by L and known that he was watching her every move, Light might be able to handle that pressure but she didn’t know if she could have handled showering with that knowledge, but even so she had been expecting it to happen. It was weird to think that now Light would never have that experience and that all her references would fall on deaf ears.

“Oh yeah?” Ryuk asked with eyes that screamed for details.

“Well, I guess since it didn’t happen it’s not important.” She said with a fake melodramatic sigh knowing it would drive Ryuk up the wall not to know all these could have beens, “Too bad, because let me tell you Light pretending to read porn is the most hilarious thing you would have ever witnessed.”

In the end she could worry about L and Light all she wanted but Ryuk’s howls of anguish at being denied the opportunity to watch Light do whatever it was Light did when reading porn (which unsurprisingly for Light was absolutely jack shit) made everything seem a whole lot better.


	11. Chapter 11

_“There are moments of false hope sometimes. Where you go and you see, ah I am not that influential, things are the same as they always are. It’s both disheartening and relieving, to think you have no influence, but sometimes things are more subtle than you expect. Often times things wear the same face initially only to transform into different beasts at a later date. ”_

* * *

They ended up celebrating his finishing the entrance exam by watching a horror movie in a nearby theater.

She had been waiting for him outside the building, as she had promised a few hours earlier, looking more frustrated and disgruntled than she had that morning as if she had lost herself somewhere inside her own thoughts. Still, there was something strangely comforting about seeing her there, almost consistent as if her presence was combined with Ryuk’s so that it was hard to imagine a world where they weren’t there.

When he’d reached them she’d looked at him for a few moments and then declared in a typical Anna Jones confident tone, “We should go do something fun and stupid.”

Fun and stupid had translated to horror film.

They had done the horror film routine a few times before, both on their own and with vague acquaintances from school. Anna Jones had declared that it was a mission to introduce both her and himself to the wonderful world of pop culture that would make him seem like a normal teenager and her not sound like an idiot referencing things that didn’t exist. He wasn’t sure why he went along with it, especially the times when she invited several of his admirers from the class claiming it was Light’s once in a life time chance to be the Bachelor, but he did never the less.

He never really enjoyed the movies themselves, he wasn’t a fan of the genre, it just seemed like such pointless death. There was no thrill or terror only a dulled grief inside him as he’d watch the bodies pile up against one another without greater cause. He wasn’t even entirely sure Anna enjoyed them, she often looked quite bored during them, or if not bored then with an expression of vague amusement that almost matched Ryuk’s. Watching Anna during horror films, was an interesting experience in and of itself, the way she looked at them was often similar to the way she looked at him when her life wasn’t immediately threatened. Reality, to her, was still more akin to watching a show. In spite of whatever reservations they both had they’d go all the same and when an opportunity arose neither declined.  

This time inside the dark theater he felt as if it was different, as if this film of demon children and failed priests was somehow more significant than all the others, not because of the film but because of her.

She had asked him a question before he had walked into the exam and so far it seemed as if she hadn’t wanted to hear the answer. Whatever his response was then, to her forced casual query about anyone interesting, it was significant enough to give her pause. It was as if this was one final attempt at pretending, at playing out the charade of Light and Anna, before it disappeared like smoke under the weight of Kira.

Watching as the protagonist made her way through darkened hallways where the shadows seemed jagged he wondered if he was not simply indulging her but also indulging himself. Things had been easy as of late and while part of him had longed for some action on L’s part, some sort of a move, he had also been strangely content with the way things were.

A charade of normality, he wondered if they hadn’t played a little too well in the months since the agent’s disappearance. They had been living in the beginning of a horror film, when there were unseen eyes in the trees but the protagonist was blissfully almost unaware, before the true dawning of knowledge took place and there was only that occasional flash of intuitive fear. It was time, however, for the plot to start rolling.

L had taken his time, had rethought and reevaluated his situation, had thinned his task force to contain only a few men one of whom was Light’s father. They were ready for battle now, Kira and L, and that only left the irrelevant question of whether Anna Jones was ready for what was to come.

They sat through the credits as everyone left and then travelled back via public transportation in silence. Only when they had reached his room with the locked door did he respond to her request which had taken up far more of his thoughts than any single question on the exam, “There was a man there who looked as if he was on some form of narcotics and sat in his chair in a fetal position. There were a few odd looking young men who probably spend most of their lives in their basements playing computer games but he was by far the one who stood out the most.”

She looked blank at that, nothing on her face, as if the emotions rolling through her head were too overwhelming to present themselves on her features. She sat down on the bed with an almost comical heaviness breathing out as she did so, “Okay.”

“Should I be worried about him?” Light asked, she appeared to think about that for a few moments as she lay on her back and inspected the ceiling, searching through memories from another world and lining them up against one another.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what they know anymore or what they can figure out, I mean he’s there so obviously something… I really don’t know.” She gave him a shaky smile for a moment her pale eyes meeting his before looking back at the ceiling again, “I suppose he’ll let you know himself soon enough.”

He took the seat across from her, the computer chair, a position they had taken quite a bit. Him at the desk, her on the bed, and Ryuk somewhere in between from his memories alone he could paint a thousand pictures of this scene. Always between them, somewhere invisible in the air, would be that sense of mistrust, fear, and desperation.

 “What does that mean?” He asked quietly in a tone that had not presented itself since the agent’s death, the last time they had confronted each other over matters of Kira.

“Let’s just say that he’s not the most subtle of people.” She responded with an odd tone of humor in her voice, as if she found this observation rather funny but wasn’t quite willing to share the details of the joke.

“Do I know who he is?” Light asked to which she glanced up at him again and gave him a wry sort of smile, “He’ll probably tell you himself, like I said, he really lacks the subtlety and the social cues.”

For a moment he wondered if they had taken a few steps back from where they were, as if Lind L. Taylor had just died and they were trying to pin the blame, what to say what not to say what to give what not to give.

“I’d prefer something more concrete than that, Anna.” He said softly and he knew that even then she heard the danger in his tone because she turned her head to look toward him those blue eyes penetrating.

“If he doesn’t approach you and tell you himself then it isn’t important. I just wanted to know if he was there, I don’t know if that means he has the same intentions as he had before, we’ll have to see.”

He doubted that, as if someone’s importance could be written off solely by the actions they chose to take, but he remained silent all the same turning to the desk and pulling the notebook out of the secret compartment.

She seemed insistent this time, as she had been when she had approached him about the agent, the terror was there but it was stowed safely behind a wall of steel. She’d only tell him what she wished to and relying on the forced words of a prophet was just as dangerous as disregarding them altogether. It was a fine line he walked meddling with gods, demons, and prophets so casually; it required greater planning than he initially expected that was all.

He’d simply have to wait and see, and until then write, that was the way the world seemed to work after all.

He barely noticed when she softly shut the door of his room behind her.

* * *

There was probably some sort of philosophy, to feel at first as if your slightest action could change the world and that everything was teetering on some edge, and then to discover to both your relief and disappointment that your actions had made no difference at all. Some mix of romanticism and existentialism, perhaps some nihilism as well, until it turned into the layout of the fabricated universe she now wandered.

Somehow without Raye Penber’s and Naomi Misora’s death L had still figured it out and she thought that should have made her happy. It was the goal after all, she should be thrilled she got exactly what she wanted, but then why was it so unnerving.

Maybe she had wanted, if only for a moment, to make some true catastrophic difference for there to be some sort of unseen price for her actions. Something to say that she was more than some character thrown into a story, more than Anna Jones; something to give her reason, purpose for existing beyond giving Light some vague semblance of a friend that wasn’t L.

She didn’t like questioning the ramifications of her own existence but she’d found she was doing it a lot lately.

She wanted to wait it out, see what L really wanted, see if he would approach Light in the auditorium and whisper into his ear, “I am L” and watch how he squirmed. She wanted to see if she truly was irrelevant but then she wasn’t irrelevant, Naomi Misora and Raye Penber were still alive, they would be getting married soon just like they had originally intended so she couldn’t be irrelevant.

She had to remind herself that she wasn’t on Light’s side or even on L’s side really but on the side of the Naomi Misora’s, and then it didn’t seem as if she had somehow inexplicably failed.

“So this is Stockholm Syndrome.” She said to herself, shaking her head, because somehow not answering Light had hurt as if it was truly betrayal instead of self-preservation.

Somehow along the way he had become more Light than Kira, and that scared her, but at the same time she was so tired of being anxious.

There were probably some philosophical ramifications for that as well.

Sitting in the guest room, a plain undecorated place that she had never quite managed to take over, she wondered if the storm that was brewing in Light’s eyes had found its outlet. He had wanted more, expected it even, he wanted details but he hadn’t threatened to kill her and somehow that detail was caught in her mind. There had been no blatant threats at all only that undercurrent of danger and expectation, as if they were somehow beyond threats, and perhaps they were.

If someone could be friends with Light, if he was capable of friendship, then maybe this was what it looked like.

Or maybe it just didn’t matter because they’d find out soon enough.

Somehow she had no doubt that her exam scores would find themselves being scored though she herself had not been present, either way she’d go to that opening ceremony with Light, and from there she’d seem the implications of her actions for herself.

But of course, if L was at the university in the first place, it had to be for Light because Light would be the only reason L would go. Why else would he be there? So was there really a point in putting off the inevitable conclusions? Some part of her wanted to say yes, and she rarely got to do what she wanted in these days.

Just pretend for a little while, a little bit longer, not that she was Anna Jones but that she was just someone pretending to be Anna Jones without any real reason to. She wanted to pretend that she was trapped in Japan having to learn a language she’d barely even heard but not that the only person she could claim to be a friend was a mass murderer who was about to enter a cut throat game of cat and mouse that would decide the fate of the world. Surely, she thought to herself, that wasn’t too much to ask.

She had the sudden urge to break something, to smash it into pieces, but she wasn’t willing to sacrifice her laptop for a fit of rage.

“Goddammit all.” She said to herself and the empty room.

Well, she’d just do what she’d said she’d do in the beginning, play it as it came. Save those inconsequential people, the people like her, who didn’t matter to L or Kira. That was the point, not L winning or Kira winning, but everyone else not losing and then somehow maybe they would find a way to make it so that Kira didn’t exist.

She didn’t like thinking about that too much either; stopping Light and thus stopping Kira, because at the end of this she didn’t want him dead, she just wanted Kira gone and even that she didn’t believe in too strongly. How could she? It wasn’t her world, she was an extra just like the rest of them, she didn’t have time to worry about things like the morality of Kira only the deaths that just kept piling up.

She didn’t want Light dead just so that she could be free, friendship really was a terrible thing, if it had led her to conclusions like that one.

So she’d just do things one step at a time, like she always had done, taking the Lind L. Taylors and the Raye Penbers and the Misa Amanes in hand as they came rushing by like freight trains. It seemed to be working so far at any rate and she had to remember that.

It really was the easiest way to approach things, think too far ahead and you’d lose your head, or so she’d always thought.

“This is so stupid.” She said to herself, getting what you wanted, seeing Kira confronted for the thing of destruction that he was, there should be some satisfaction in that and saving a few lives at the same time.

Hadn’t it been her, who had thought only a few hours ago, that a world without Light as the main Kira suspect didn’t make much sense?

Still, they’d both see soon enough, when L acted for himself. Until then there were events in the forms of freight trains and games of divulging only enough information as necessary to the local serial killer.

Picking up her well-worn Japanese dictionary as well as the latest children’s book she was attempting to read she attempted to focus on the one thing she actually seemed to be capable of. Who could really tell, maybe at the end of the day, it would be something inexplicable like literacy in Japanese that would solve all her problems?

“One thing at a time.”


	12. Chapter 12

_“I am not a goddamned oracle; that’s not what prescience means, anyone who tells you otherwise is a dipshit. Prescience is like knowing the pattern, the way things could have been, but only how it could have been. It’s like Schrödinger’s cat, it could be dead but it also could be alive, and maybe you only know that live cat but when you open the box you trap the cat in one form. I know the cat that’s alive, when I opened the box I got the dead cat, I don’t know that dead cat.”_

* * *

Later, in one of their rare honest and bare moments with each other, she would look him in the eye with a flat expression and say that this was the day that she first realized everything was spiraling out of control.

After both having been accepted to To-Oh university, Anna Jones having not applied herself or taken the exams, they found themselves standing in front of the incoming class in the main auditorium reading off of a speech, Anna visibly nervous at the sight of so much Japanese on one page.

He had thought that it might be coming but even so it was insulting to both him and everything he had ever worked for that Anna Jones had tied him for one hundred percent on the entrance exam without even having taken the damn test in the first place.

In spite of what she frequently implied he still devoted effort to school even while being Kira, perhaps not as much, but he still did try and thought about his work even if he could get away with less. He studied, even when he felt he might not have to, because that was what he had been raised to do and put pride in doing. It was more than a little infuriating to watch hadn’t done homework in months, had never even taken the exam, and who seemed more enthused about terrible science fiction movies than education score just as high as him and take it so nonchalantly.

Her reaction on getting the score at the breakfast table had been raised eyebrows and then a dry comment and cheerful grin over at Sayu, “Wow, I guess I’m also the number one student in Japan now. Who would have thought?”

Perhaps worse though, than Anna Jones receiving a perfect score, was the fact that there was a three way tie and not simply a two. Anna Jones had the excuse of having an insane deity cheating on her behalf, what could possibly be the addict’s excuse for scoring a perfect?

The man was more than a little bizarre and Light had trouble taking him seriously but judging by Anna’s reactions to him, both in the exam, and then again on seeing him there in the auditorium, this was not a view he should foster. He seemed almost like a caricature from his fetal sitting position in the exam to the way he held the written speech in front of him with only two fingers on each hand, as if it might contaminate him. He was the type of person you saw in a manga or an anime, someone who you only vaguely questioned in that context but accepted as a part of the show, people like him didn’t exist in real life.

Of course, Anna Jones would argue, this world was a manga they were only under the clever illusion that it somehow wasn’t.

So far the man had spared a few glances towards Light but most of them had settled on the American standing next to him, his eyes were so blank though so almost inhuman, that it was hard to gauge what he was thinking or what he saw in her. The stage seemed a bit small to hold all of them, too small for an inconsequential speech to drift between them, Mexican Standoff she would called these moments with a quirk of the lips.

But there was no true acknowledgement of the situation, instead they exchanged furtive or in the case of the man not so furtive glances, and Anna Jones smiled cheerfully ahead into the audience as if to convey that everything was fine in the world.

She had not explicitly stated the man was dangerous but something in her expression, in the sheer fact that she had felt the need to ask him to look for him, made Light wonder and dissect as he took the man in from his worn sneakers to his untamed hair.

Finally, the speech was passed off to Anna, and for a moment she stared dumbly at it her mental vulgarities almost written on her face. The part of him that wasn’t consumed with taking the man into memory or noticing the way he was observing them felt a little bit of vindictive joy that she would be forced to stutter her way through a speech in front of a live audience. She’d managed decently in class, certainly she’d been stellar in English, but for the most part she had run through a grab bag of tricks which included extended bathroom breaks, sleeping, illness, and a fear of public speaking.

“Hello, everyone... I am so proud to be up here representing you and To-Oh and…” She trailed off and mouthed a few words that Light couldn’t recognize, probably what she perceived to be Japanese, finally she placed the speech back down on the podium and more cheerfully addressed her audience, “all the students who have passed here before me. I can speak for all of us when I say it is an honor to be attending this school and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. So let’s have a super awesome year and get super awesome grades everybody!”

That, needless to say, had not been in the speech but the audience didn’t seem to mind and applauded politely and Light was left standing there on her left wondering if anyone had even noticed. They bowed to their audience and then began descending back to their seats in the front row, him and Anna side by side and the man behind.

“Surely ‘super awesome grades’ was a bit much, Anna.” He commented under the sound of clapping but instead of shrugging as he expected she did not even acknowledge the comment. She didn’t look stiff, her gait was almost casual, not too relaxed but definitely a stroll that was in the territory of Anna Jones rather than her. Her expression was schooled into one of perfect blankness, the kind of expression of an extra, the one you glanced at only once and then not again.

In some other world, a world in which she did not exist, she told him later that the man would approach him and for a moment it would seem as if there was no one else in the world. In that world there was only Light and things were much less complicated, at least in the eyes of his opposition, as it was this was not that world for better or worse so the man did not approach him first.

Rather instead, he reached out with a pale bony hand to Anna’s shoulder causing her head to swivel towards his with a speed that was almost comical as they walked towards their seats, “Miss Anna Jones, an exceptional exchange student from America by all accounts; fluent in Japanese, in current residence with the Yagami family and close friends with the eldest son Light Yagami, and now a student at one of Japan’s most prestigious universities.”

“…Yes?” She asked, it sounded strained, somewhat concerned and perhaps given his appearance and his alarming amount of knowledge regarding her it was only natural. Still though, Light knew her better than the casual observer, that must have been the moment it hit the moment she realized she had changed far more than she had ever intended.

This was not written in the script, her script had officially run out.

The man did not seem to realize how awkward of a situation this was or he didn’t care, again Light found it hard to read his expression or anything about him, between the hunched shoulders and those dilated black eyes Light couldn’t find any of those characteristic human motions in him to break down.

They sat down in the chairs, the man outmaneuvering Light and perching (there really was no other word for the motion) in the seat next to hers so that Light could only see her expressions over his shoulder, and even as the next speech started the man persisted his words only just audible to Light.

“Forgive me, but you see, as a current resident of the household of a man working in the homicide division of the NPA in this day and age, with your good friend already having helped with many cases in the NPA, and having quite substantial intelligence of your own if your test scores are to be believed I felt it would be good to make contact.”

She was smiling at him in a way that she had never smiled at Light, it was a nervous sort of grin, one that would say to others that she had no idea what this man was doing or why he was doing it but to Light said she knew exactly what was happening she just had no idea how to respond to it. Her nervousness around Light was very different, it was darker, grittier, without any need for social response whereas there was panic in this but it was lighter less direct and because of it seemed more superficial. She didn’t think this man was going to kill her, not in this room, not in this instant as she often appeared to think with Light.

Light didn’t know whether he found that reassuring or not.

It was rather incredible actually, the way the man kept going, in spite of all social cues otherwise. It was to the point where Light believed he noticed both Anna’s increasing discomfort with the situation as well as Light’s own steadily rising aura of anger but that he simply didn’t care. He hadn’t even turned to face Light in the entire time he’d been speaking with Anna, as if Light wasn’t even there.

As a friend Light felt he was perfectly entitled to allow his own darker emotions to surface on his face a stranger they had only just met proceeded to stare at his best friend as if she was his next fix of heroin and list off facts about her like a stalker including where she was currently living. Really, it was only natural, Kira or not and it made him really wonder about the man’s mental health.

Ryuk, for his own part, hovered unseen in the aisle looking from behind Anna over to the man with a grin that would terrify any child for a month. It just gave Light the familiar feeling of foreboding as Ryuk was only ever truly excited when things were playing outside of Light’s hands.  

“Because, you see, Anna, I am L.”

And then there was silence, silence interrupted by meaningless speeches, by students politely clapping at the end of each. Each second marked by Light’s cold stare into the back of the man’s head, feeling as if his heart was caught in ice, and his thoughts in a whirl as all he could think was that this man, this man, had just claimed to be L.

She didn’t even blink rather the smile became slightly more strained and her eyes flicked to his, the eyes of the improve actor on stage, before returning to the man’s, “…Oh… That’s… uh… cool?”

That had broken something reminded him that a claim is not reality, that simply because someone claims to be L does not make them L, and even if it did make them L shouting such things in public looking as he did would not a convincing argument make. If L had been hoping to throw him, Kira, Anna Jones, whoever he was looking for off guard he had failed immensely as he had failed to take in one of the things she excelled in addressing, context.

Light was not expected to take him seriously, not in a situation like this, because if he wasn’t Kira then there was no possible way he would have believed that.

With a nervous laugh she motioned towards Light with a pale hand, “Light’s the one who’s really into the detective shindig, as I guess you noticed… L’s really great and Kira definitely needs to be brought to justice but to be honest I don’t really know much about it other than what happened on television a few months ago, if you want the expert you’re going to have to go to Light.”

It was like an owl, the way his head slowly turned towards Light, and in that motion Light found he could see slight annoyance, frustration, as well as maybe a touch of disappointment. “Yes of course, Light Yagami is quite the gifted individual as well.”

“If you are L,” Light started holding out a hand to shake but he left the ice in his eyes as well as in his tone, “Then it’s a pleasure to meet you and I am a great fan of your work, I truly wish you the best of luck in the case though I doubt you’ll be needing it.”

The man took Light’s hand as if it was some diseased rat he had found in the gutter and was just told that he’d have to eat it as a gun was pointed to the back of his head, after a rather limp wristed handshake he reached into his pocket for a tissue and began wiping off his hand as if to sanitize himself. Light chose that moment to continue, “However, that being said, you’ll forgive me if I don’t quite take your word for this and allow me my skepticism.”

There was quite a bit of forgiving, only said but not meant, that was going on in this conversation.

The man smiled and then stuck his thumb beneath his teeth and began to chew on it, a gesture that could be a nervous tick from the way he disregarded it but could also just be to screw with anyone he talked to, it seemed as if the man truly enjoyed making people uncomfortable, “Don’t worry, Mr. Yagami, I can verify it. I’ve met with your father and he knows who I am, anytime you wish we can meet and he will confirm my identity. Miss Jones, of course, is welcome to come as well.”

“… I can’t wait.” She did an excellent job of casting doubt onto L’s sanity in that single sentence as well as convey her entire discomfort with the situation, to add effect behind her Ryuk was starting to cackle madly.

“As I said, if you are L, then you are a man who has earned both my respect and admiration and as someone who hopes to work in the same field I hope that I am a tenth of the detective that you are.”

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments as that seemed to be all that the man had wanted to say, he did get straight to the point about it, didn’t even wait until everyone had stopped talking. It was Anna who broke it looking at L with a more speculative expression, still somewhat alarmed and disturbed, but the cogs she usually kept invisible in public were turning behind her eyes again.

“I doubt you go by L in public, it would pretty well ruin the whole anonymous detective thing you have going for you.”

The man did apparently have some sense of humor, it had taken Light quite some time to find Anna Jones funny, and even then her humor to him was somewhat spotty. Still at the dry remark Light could hear a slight chuckle emanating from him and imagined that his expression was again that childish quirk of the lips around a thumb.

“No doubt you’re right, I have enrolled under the name of Hideki Ryuga and it would be best to address me as that here. At work I simply go as Ryuzaki.”

There was a second there where Light tried to relate this L to the actual Hideki Ryuga and felt his brain strain at the very idea of it. If mental images could say error then his would definitely be a blue screen at the moment.

“You do realize Ryuga Hideki is a special brand of televised awful.” She said with a sage expression, as if this was the irrefutable wisdom of the universe, which it might have been though Sayu would never agree with it.

The man said nothing, he remained perfectly perched on his chair, as if the comment had never happened in the first place. That appeared to have effectively ended the conversation, and thus and small talk, before it could even begin.

The only noticeable thing after that had been his disappearance, a slight wave to the pair of them, and then him riding off in the back of a Rolls Royce limousine looking as if having all that money and looking like a homeless man was only perfectly natural. 

And there they were, Light Yagami and Anna Jones, staring at the black car in the middle of campus watching as it rolled away from them and back into greater Tokyo as if it wasn’t L inside it at all.

* * *

He waited until they were back home, in Light’s locked bedroom, before shit hit the fan. She supposed it was only natural, it was where Light felt safest to plot, to talk to Ryuk, to be Kira. Kira was born in that room, with Ryuk’s introduction as well as that first death, this was the womb to him and he felt comfortable there. He still rigged traps upon traps but there was something about that room that allowed him to relax slightly and let the paranoia drip from him ever so slightly.

She wondered if the cameras would have erased that from him. Now they would never know.

“Is he really L?” It was so calm, so clear and direct. When Light was his most dangerous it was never screaming, the screaming and rage was when he wasn’t thinking, when Lind L. Taylor was clutching his chest over a desk no it was the calculation where he really became something to fear.

“Believe it or not, yes, that’s the great detective.” She said but it was distracted she kept thinking about the way he looked at her, had addressed her, and the way he hadn’t looked at Light. It could be a ploy to get to Light but either way L suspected a large involvement on her own part, she was at least associated with Kira if not suspected of being Kira herself, and she wondered how that possibly could have happened.

“And you didn’t think to tell me that?”

She turned to look at him, the lights were on so he was well lit but even so he was looking ominous, the sort of tone that could only be achieved by lighting there in a normal room, “So you could what? You may know his face but you don’t know his name, it isn’t Ryuga Hideki I’ll tell you that much, you didn’t need to panic before he ever saw you.”

Ryuk backed her up as he chewed on an apple, “She’s right you know, Light, you do kind of freak when it comes to L.”

Light didn’t appear to appreciate that commentary but he didn’t say anything, Lind L. Taylor would always burn in bright neon lights for both of them, it was a mark of their greatest failures for entirely different reasons. Instead he simply looked at her, saying nothing, his eyes just taking her in as they did all things related to Kira. Coldly, efficiently, but with attention that was almost flattering.

“So you do know his real name then.”

It seemed as if the room went on pause there for a moment, with him looking at her with more speculation than threat, as if everything had just fallen into his lap and he had never realized it before.

As it happened she did know his name, it had never been revealed in the show but she had been around the fandom enough to know it. She had almost forgotten that she did know it, that it would be something Light asked of her, that instead he would ask after plot points and loopholes to exploited and not something as simple and deadly as L’s name. She hadn’t realized that she could kill someone with just a word and now the room seemed to be holding its breath.

And then he smiled, as if he’d just won some great prize, and said nothing.

Well, she thought to herself, shit.

She was very tempted to tell him that she was never using the notebook and she would never tell him that name herself even if he actually went through with his original vague torture threats. He didn’t ask for it though, he simply sat down in his chair, stared at the ceiling and smiled.

Like it was all already figured out inside his head and he just had to wait for everything to fall into place.

She had forgotten that about him, not really but somewhat, the way he excelled at life as if it were a game of strategy where everyone’s moves were mapped out before him all dancing around his head and falling into place months before they would ever happen. Each of them listed with their various attributes, their strengths, their weaknesses, their knowledge, just waiting to be used as game pieces when the moment was right.

The way Light didn’t look at her in that moment, his soft smile, she knew that somewhere down the way perhaps months from now she would be put into a position where she would supposedly have no choice but to spell out L’s doom for him.

She wasn’t going to kid herself, psychologically traumatic though the last couple months had been they had not been harrowing, it could have been far worse. It still could be far worse, whatever he predicted for her was bad enough that he expected her to break, to let him win even though he knew she did not agree with the idea of a serial killer as god. She looked at his content expression and shuddered.

Checkmate, that smile said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world even when they were fifty moves from check.

Checkmate.


	13. Chapter 13

_“You know it’s funny, when he’s just in the manga you never realize how hellishly creepy L really is. Because he is so hellishly creepy.”_  

* * *

One would think Hideki Ryuga was their new best friend. They probably made quite the trio for gossip, the three top scorers, all hanging around together with their very different personalities. One would think they were a sitcom.

“You know, um, Ryuga, that I don’t actually play tennis or… athletics.” Anna said eyeing the racket she had been presented by L rather warily. Her expressions were a masterpiece of awkwardness, always stretched to the limit in L’s presence as he continued to act like a hopeless stalker.

“Oh but Anna, it will be fun, and you do want to have fun at college don’t you?”

He still had a rather difficult time relating this man to the image of L he had created in his head but he certainly had the persistence to be L. Since the semester had begun, Anna’s courses selected for her by what she called “the spirit in the sky” to match Light, he had been near them at every turn in each of their classes and in each one taking the seat right next to hers. He did not always bring up Kira or even make mention of the police but there would be at least some comment every once in a while on Anna’s intelligence or her thinking patterns or her convenient friendship with the level headed Yagami Light.

After the first day, returning to their home, she had breathed a sigh of relief in his room looking somewhat alarmed, “He’s everywhere, I think I’m being stalked, but actually it’s like having a stalker.”

And finally there was tennis.

None of them were even dressed for tennis, the man had failed to change out of his worn jeans and white shirt, and Anna was wearing one of her more stylish outfits so as not to look like a complete slob during classes. He also had the suspicion that it was so that she and L would not look like they matched but she had never said as much directly.

So it was a sheepish looking Anna who looked like she wanted nothing more than sprint away from the man, the racket, and the college in general who replied, “Uh, look, Ryuga. Not that I don’t appreciate the friendship gestures but I don’t appreciate the friendship gestures. You see, when you look at me with dilated eyes and no expression and ask to play tennis… Well, it makes me think that tennis is your really shitty metaphor for sex.”

There was a pause where the alleged greatest detective in the world continued to stare at her as if to confirm her words Light wondered if this was enough of a cue for him to punch the man in the face. He always felt that such actions might arouse L’s suspicions of him being Kira, but really, these situations were becoming ridiculous.

“Light plays tennis, he was a champion in high school, I mean he hates it now but he’s damn good.” She said motioning to Light who didn’t really appreciate the comment, it was odd how many random things she seemed to know about him from the story, he couldn’t possibly think how his tennis career proved to be of any importance to his work as Kira.

For a moment he thought L might bring up the sex comment, perhaps to make Light as exceedingly uncomfortable as Anna was, it certainly was an excellent tactic for throwing one off balance. But he did no more than glance at him slightly and say in a dull voice, “Hm, oh yes, I have heard.”

If he wasn’t concerned with not being identified as Kira Light may have been insulted by that casual disregard. No one had ever looked over Light, certainly not for someone else, and something in him burned at the way he was passed over as if he was nothing.

As if to pour salt in the wound Ryuk commented over his shoulder, “Oh ho, Light, looks like you’re chopped liver.”

“So, better idea, Ryuga can go find other people and Light and I will go get coffee and talk about all his hilarious high school romances.” Her grin grew in size as well as discomfort and she hooked her arm into Light’s as if to indicate their pairing off from him, “I can’t wait, so bye, Ryuga, see you next class when you sit next to me again… It’ll be awesome.”

“I’ll come with you.” And it seemed that the man either had no social awareness or had the ability to disregard them completely.

This was another thing Anna had brought up late at night in Light’s bedroom, pacing back and forth in his room, with the expression of contemplation that he usually worse he had watched as the gears in her head turned frantically. “There’s no way to get rid of him, we can’t go to the police, he is the police. Well alright, he’s not the police, not Japan’s police but with Watari’s connections filing a restraining order would be no good. Not even Watari, your own father, if he was told it was for the good of the Kira case would do his damnedest to see that it doesn’t go through.”

She had stopped then and turned to look at him with a haunted expression, “There’s no way out, I can’t get rid of him.”

There was one way out though, one she had not said yet but was on the tip of her tongue, one he could not force her into but just had to wait for it. She knew his name and she knew his face, Light might personally never write it himself, but one day she would write it all the same. All he had to do was sit back and let L push himself closer and closer to wherever her breaking point was and with the dogged determination he was showing thus far he would reach it.

So there were few objections on Light’s end to the creepy college student that looked vaguely like a homeless meth addict sitting across from them at Light’s favorite café near campus thus far. That being said it was still somewhat infuriating and disappointing that his greatest rival, a man whom he had come to respect somewhat even as he plotted his demise, perched on his seat and sucked on his thumb.

“One of the things I love about this place is that it’s so quiet that no matter how you look, or how you sit for that matter, no one will stare at you.” He couldn’t help but comment and the man nodded sticking his thumb further into his mouth.

“Yes, it’s quite lovely. I can see why you like it.”

After that there was the pause that came to symbolize most of their conversations with the detective. That silence where no one could think of anything to say and where they all simply stared at each other, that in one of Anna Jones’ films would feature dramatic music and lighting as well as perhaps internal monologues to allow the rise in suspense but were actually just silent and more than a little awkward.

“So, is there anything you want to talk about, Ryuga?” The girl said finally her eyebrows raised slightly, “I mean, it’s not like you can reminisce about Light’s ridiculous love affairs… Unless you can…”

Again a flicker of a smile out of the man, as if he did find the comment and the entire situation somewhat amusing, but then it was gone and he drawled, “Unfortunately I do not know Mr. Yagami quite as well as that and while I’m sure his romantic adventures are tantalizing I can’t say I’m entirely interested.”

“Oh, so you’re just stalking me then… Super…” She cut in, a comment that he ignored as he continued his speech, although his eyes did spark at the comment.

“No, in fact, Light, if you could please vacate the table for a ten minutes or so I would be most obliged.” Here his eyes cut to Light, piercing, something sharp and dangerous in them whereas before they had always been a dull black.

“I am not comfortable alone with you.” She pointed out, “I would much prefer that Light, as useless as he would be in a fist fight, be at the table too.”

“Even if it’s about the Kira case?” His attention did not waver from Light and for a moment Light wondered how well this man could read him, if he could truly see Kira in him somehow just from his expression, “As an aspiring detective and your father’s son I would say it is almost your duty to see the Kira case through to its end. A ten minutes is only a ten minutes and you do not have to leave the café, merely the table, and at the end of it we may all just find ourselves one step closer to our favorite serial killer. So, Mr. Yagami, what will you do?”

There was a moment where he looked at her, where their eyes met, and in that moment there was no doubt that he would leave her there to L’s tender mercies. “I’ll be near the entrance.”

Of course, he didn’t go to the entrance, he probably wasn’t expected to even by L. A normal friend, the Light before Kira, would most likely eavesdrop as well. He would be concerned for his friend but perhaps more concerned about her connection to the Kira case, he would want information, to be able to deduce by himself whether or not she had any real connection to the Kira case. Though, even as he thought this to himself, he wondered if L would pay it any mind given the attention he had been sparing Light so far.

Instead he took the table behind them and concentrated on listening in.

“So, it’s about the Kira case. I did tell you that Light’s the one who’s into the police work I’m kind of into instant Netflix… I mean VHS.”

Oddly enough Ryuk drifted over towards Light so that he was staring at Light even while listening to the two speak. As if somehow Light’s reactions to this conversation were far more interesting than the girl’s facial expressions, as if this was the show, and not Anna Jones charade to L.  

L made a small noise, a distant ‘hm’ of thought, as if dismissing the words, “The Kira case is very interesting, the most interesting I’ve ever solved really. Of course there’s the god-like powers, the dramatics, the seemingly impossible ability to solve, and of course the suspense at any moment; but it’s more than that. As much as I’d like to say it’s just another case of serial killing but with a murderer who’s on a bit of a moral high it isn’t, it’s far more interesting than that.”

“Oh?”

And in that he can almost hear as L leans in across the table his eyes unblinking to pin her to the other side as if she was a fly on a wall.

“He has an advisor, you see. Someone very close, perhaps older, a bit more mature and maybe even a little unwillingly involved but emotionally dependent enough on our Kira to involve himself anyway. Someone who says to Kira, look before you leap, think on the consequences of your actions, what is reasonable for them to know or suspect, what is your purpose in being Kira to begin with. In other words, the person who says don’t kill Lind L. Taylor, don’t kill the police, don’t kill those people who are only vaguely involved, and perhaps even don’t kill L. If you mean to fashion yourself a god then be a god, not some petty human with a murder weapon and a trigger finger.”

A pause, the clinking of glasses, and then a breath. “I digress, I suppose I shall come to the point. I suspect you, Anna Jones, of being Kira and your friend Light Yagami of being your somewhat unwilling advisor.”

“Holy shit.” Was her response and it was panicked, alarmed, surprised, and also somewhat disbelieving. “Um… You know… It’s been great and all but…”

“It’s a five percent chance, you being Kira that is.” L interrupted.

“That’s good.”

“It’s more of a percentage than anyone else in the world.”

“That’s bad.”

Again a slight amount of silence, someone lifting their tea to their face, and then the girl, “You know I’m really not Kira… like at all… And this somehow got creepier than you stalking me.”

“I am interrogating you, Ms. Jones, hardly stalking.”

Finally, “Look, I’m gonna head out, so… yeah…”

And with that Light headed to the entrance where eventually he was shortly met with the sight of a pale and worn looking Anna Jones with a grim expression on her face.

“I trust it went well?” Light asked and again she only looked at him as if there were no words she could possibly use to describe the situation.

* * *

The week ended with her sitting in the hospital waiting room staring out at the streetlamps and the ever present lights of Tokyo. Her own pale face was staring back at her, red hair only loosely held back, shadows worthy of L under her eyes.

L was early or perhaps Soichiro’s heart attack was late, either way it hadn’t happened at their café meeting but instead been a few days later when they had been in class. Both Light and L had exited the class quietly, listening to the call in earnest, and then they had been back in with little explanation taking their things and leaving both almost frantic.

And there she’d been staring at both of them, not moving, and realizing that perhaps she should be but maybe she shouldn’t. He wasn’t her father and she didn’t work with him but somehow she had been drawn into the Kira case anyway. As it was she went with, whether as moral support for Light or as L’s suspect was anyone’s guess.

L suspected her of being Kira. She had considered it as a possibility, when he hadn’t confronted Light, but it still baffled her. Kira, how could he look at her and possibly see Kira, see Light? And when looking at Light how did he see anything but Kira? There was a dull sort of horror, a feeling of everything falling to pieces, but also a tranquil nonunderstanding of how things came to be.

How could he possibly have reached that conclusion?

After he had first brought it up she thought about the Kira case, about Light’s actions, and her own again. Deducing her presence was not unreasonable, Light’s actions had changed dramatically after the Lind L. Taylor incident as well as perhaps his basic philosophy in the criminals he did choose to kill, there were few petty thieves on Light’s death list. It would be the perfect cover, for someone in the Kanto region at the time, who was fluent in Japanese to start with Japanese criminals and then branch out to mislead someone as to her origins. Still though, to look at an exchange student, only in high school at the time, and see Kira…

She didn’t understand it.

Light had found it somewhat funny, after first finding it insulting, “He really doesn’t know you at all, you’re far too much of a philosopher to take on a role like Kira, even if you are ruthless enough. And me, an advisor blackmailed into the position, well…” And he’d broken off laughing with Ryuk, his head tilted back in hysterics, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

She was still thinking about it, wondering what she should do, if she tried to get L to suspect Light instead or to suspect neither of them. To have him pin someone in a corner or no one at all, she wished it was as it had been written, but it seemed like actions had consequences after all. In creating a more stable Kira she had shown her hand.

So there she was, the number one Kira suspect, and L hot on her trail.

Soichiro looked as if he had died. When they finally entered the room he was almost as pale as L and sweat was dripping from his brow, he laid on his bed as if he could barely move, and his eyes seemed dull.

She had forgotten this incident from the manga, considering he hadn’t died and wouldn’t die for five more years it had seemed ultimately unimportant, just something to add dramatic tension in the story and allow for L’s identity to be confirmed. She had failed to mention it to Light, perhaps he assumed it hadn’t happened in the original story, and for that she felt a bit of shame that it had slipped her mind. As if the ordinary suffering of people was of no consequence, that only death mattered, and the Yagami family tearing itself apart didn’t.

This man would kill himself by working, looking at his pale sweating face it was more than evident, and yet each of his family members knew that there was nothing they could do or say to stop him. They just had to slowly watch as he wasted away into oblivion.

“I thought it was Kira, at first.” He coughed and smiled weakly, “It turned out it was just stress… For a moment though I really thought…”

Light stared at him for a few moments with an expression that was truly miserable, and perhaps he was truly miserable, to lose his father without his own volition. He did care for his family, she believed that, it was evident in his treatment of Sayu and even of Soichiro even as he cast them aside and hardened himself against them there was some part of him that was still his son.

“You shouldn’t work so hard.” Light said distantly, without enthusiasm, similar to a pleasantry that one knows means nothing but you must say anyway.

He coughed but said nothing, as if such words didn’t even deign a response, later Sachiko would beg him to take a break from the Kira case to go home and live with his family. It would have about the same amount of success.

“It is good to see that you are doing well, Mr. Yagami.” L stated before continuing, “When I received the call I feared for the worst.”

Soichiro nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

“Yes, I’m alright though, I’ll be back to work soon enough.”

He took a breath and finally he seemed to register Anna Jones presence in his room, a presence he had never fully understood in his house either, and when he looked at her it was as if he was seeing nothing at all but a distraction. She had no reason to be there, just as she had always known, but here she was all the same.

“Anna, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with my son.”

She stood and inclined her head, not commenting that L had not been thrown out of the room, and made her way back into the waiting room.

No doubt they were discussing L’s true identity as the great detective, not simply Ryuga the college student, and beyond that perhaps they even had a discussion on Kira’s state of emotional well-being. Whether or not he was a happy man, where Light would only frown and think to himself that he was the luckiest man in the world.

She just stared out at the streetlamps, the closest things to stars near the city, and wondered how on earth she had gotten here and what it truly meant to be suspected of being Kira.


	14. Chapter 14

_“When things get bad they just kind of roll up on one another, things snowball fast, so while you think yesterday’s snowball might be a bit large tomorrow it will be an avalanche. Just try to keep your head, that’s what I think anyway.”_

* * *

The complication that was Misa Amane would not come into his life until a week after his father’s heart attack.

There were times when he resented Anna for that, for keeping silent on it for so very long, but other times when he was on the cusp of sleep he recognized that it had not been the time and for that he was grateful. His father was going to live, for now, and though Light might not kill him himself the Kira case might destroy him regardless.

On that first meeting, when he and Ryuga (Ryuzaki, L, whatever he chose to call himself) spoke with his father and confirmed the man’s true identity as the great anonymous detective and Anna had been removed to the waiting room, he couldn’t help but think that this would be the way his father would perish. Not a heart attack from Light, not from a bullet, but wasting away as he slowly but surely worked himself to death.

Because Kira wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what he or L believed, Kira would be around for a very long time.

So for that first week, when he had visited occasionally after class, Anna did not speak on the Kira case or anything related to it.

She’d been thinking about something, but it had been silent and not brought to his attention, and even as L continued to harass her and push her beyond any reasonable social interaction she didn’t say anything to Light.

Finally though, she seemed to reach the conclusion that they were running out of time.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.” That was how it had started, her knocking on his bedroom door with a steely look of determination in her eyes and then walking in. She stared at the floor for a few moments before speaking, arranging and rearranging words and facts in her head, and it was only after a lengthy pause with Light’s attention solely on her did she speak.

“Things are going to get… complicated very fast, regarding Kira.” She looked up at him and paused again as if to gauge his reaction how he would feel about her bringing up his role but he said nothing, “You know that if Ryuk could drop a notebook then another Shinigami is perfectly capable of doing the same. Six notebooks can be on Earth at any given moment, actually, regardless though that isn’t the issue. Very soon, if it hasn’t happened already, there’s going to be another notebook down here.”

Perhaps she expected him to interrupt, to rage at her on how she hadn’t told him, on how she had let him continue on in ignorance that this was even a possibility. He didn’t though, he just sat and watched her, because things had changed between them once again. L, having declared her to be his suspect in the Kira case or else the weakest link, was pushing her closer and closer to Light’s side of the playing field. It was no longer about morality or doing what was right, before she could save others Anna Jones had to save herself, and to do that she had to hedge her bets. Of her two options Light, ironically enough, was the safest.

There was also something else though, oddly enough he trusted her, and trusted her judgment when it came what to dispense when. She had failed him only once, in the case of Lind L. Taylor, and though her actions had painted a red target on her own back it had not painted one on Light’s. In a way then, unwitting as it had been, she had sacrificed herself for him and allowed him his chance to see L in the flesh and draw close enough for the kill.

It was because of Anna Jones that he would live up to his initial promise of delivering death to L.

He wasn’t prone to sentiment but these certainly were facts that worked in her favor so he listened and she continued even while thinking that perhaps he might have preferred to know this a little sooner.  

With little beating around the bush she relayed the story of Misa Amane, a young model who while not as intelligent as Light was perhaps as ruthless and certainly clever enough to work with the resources she was given.

“She isn’t stupid, far from it, if you think about the original story she was actually one of the few characters who got what she wanted at the end of it. Almost, she was very close.” She’d said musingly before continuing, never mentioning what other character got what they wanted out of the story although Light had long accepted that he was not one of them, the author most likely having been against him from the beginning, in that story he had more or less accepted that he was doomed to failure.

What a thought to have, to know that without intervention all your work would have amounted to nothing, he wondered if he would have regretted it in that other world; being Kira. Somehow, even if he inconceivably failed at the end of it, he couldn’t think that he would regret it because without it there would have been no reason for Yagami Light to exist at all. So, no, even with the uncertainty and the possibility of loss he would not say he would ever regret it.

In the meantime Anna Jones continued her summarization of a story.

A Shinigami had fallen in love with her and had killed a human who had been stalking her and attempted to kill her, “Ryuk probably hasn’t told you this, it isn’t exactly relevant at the moment and it certainly doesn’t do him any favors.” She said her eyes glancing to Ryuk and back to Light, Ryuk was oddly quiet during this, as if he hadn’t realized how far Anna’s vision had extended so that it included the Shinigami realm as well, “There are two ways I know of that a Shinigami can die. One is that they stop writing in the notebook and thus run out of life and the other is that they kill on behalf of a human, I suppose you might call this falling in love with a human, that’s how it was phrased in the manga.”

Ryuk interrupted for a moment, “You never said you knew that much about the Shinigami realm and all that stuff, I thought the story or whatever was about Light.”

She nodded, “It is, but you know, things become relevant as you go along. We don’t see much of the Shinigami realm but it’s definitely there.”

She then continued saying that after the Shinigami had died a different Shinigami by the name of Rem, who had witnessed the events, had been moved enough to enter the human world and deliver the notebook to Amane Misa believing it to be rightfully hers.

Misa Amane, being a devout believer in Kira, would then take the notebook and attempt to gain Kira’s attention through a variety of means.

“Misa is dangerous, too dangerous to be left alone.” She stated in a blunt tone as if this fact was unshakeable and not to be doubted, “I might have already waited too long but if we interfered before she got the notebook then it wouldn’t have worked and I don’t know the exact timing… We can just hope that she hasn’t mailed anything in yet and try to get her attention beforehand.”

And he wondered what this woman, this Misa Amane, could possibly be like in the flesh. He couldn’t picture her, but then had someone described L to him, or even Anna Jones he would have failed to picture them as well. There were times when even to him, in the midst of everything, his life resembled a story a little too well where every character was interesting with their own oddities to spare. Where things were complicated and convoluted to the point of convenience, where one shock was brought in right after the other. Only a few weeks before L had announced his suspicions of Anna Jones and Light Yagami as her accomplice and now another Kira was to present herself, it was all a little rushed to be real, almost out of hand but not quite.

Whether Anna had these thoughts specifically was hard to say, she seemed so focused on the immediateness of the situation, that it seemed she didn’t have time to spare for her usual philosophy. It was as if, since L’s declaration, they had momentarily switched roles so that it was her who was forced to plan and scheme while he could sit and simply watch and wonder at the way it all presented itself.

In this one conversation she had freely and plainly offered more information than she ever had before, there was something telling in that. She must have noted it as well because she continued again only after a great deal of hesitation and in an uncertain voice, “I’m not sure what Ryuk’s told you of the eye deal, since it never became relevant enough to need it…”

The words were unfamiliar, which was hardly surprising since Ryuk always liked to play games with aces up his sleeves, but even so he found himself turning to glare at the Shinigami at the prospect that he should have known about it but didn’t, “Hey, don’t look at me, you wouldn’t have agreed anyway.”

“He’s right, you wouldn’t.” Anna interrupted before Light could reply that it hardly mattered if he agreed or not simply that he knew, “The eye deal gives you a Shinigami’s sight and allows you to see everyone’s name on viewing their face as well as their lifespans. However in return for the sight you have to give half your life span to the Shinigami so it’s not a very good deal, if you’re more concerned with longevity than just death.”

He could imagine, with the correct dramatic timing, a pause before the price of the deal. That it could have been a very dramatic moment where he was well and truly tempted. As it was it seemed like a rushed summary and just came off a little flat making it seem a little silly that he would even conceive of agreeing to it.

She was right, he wouldn’t have, not with half his life span as the cost but even so he felt a little insulted that she had decided not to tell him simply because of that,“I wish you wouldn’t decide these things for me.”

She looked at him for a moment with raised eyebrows, perhaps alluding to many things she considered irrelevant and thus didn’t tell him, and then shrugged turning her mind back to the problem at hand that had nothing to do with slights against Light.

“It wasn’t important at the time, but Misa does agree to the eye deal, and with that she’ll be able to tell that you’re Kira, on sight that is.”

It was amazing how many inane little rules she knew about how the notebook worked and various other attributes. He had never realized how very much she knew about this world, and wondered if she knew as much about him as she did the notebook and Shinigami, if he hadn’t been laid bare on black and white pages seeming so terribly flat and predictable. Listening to her talk he had to suppress the fear creeping into his mind as he remembered back to when they had originally discussed her ability to know the future, how easily she had presented it to him, and wondered if knowing the future was the wrong term. It wasn’t the future, it was the context, the possibility, his thoughts, everything about him and his world that was in any way important she knew as if it was only words and pictures.

It was more than a little difficult listening to her talk with such ideas in mind. 

The eyes, Anna said, worked a little differently for humans than for Shinigami. Misa wouldn’t be able to see the life span of another human in possession of a notebook for some bizarrely explained reason, Anna said she thought it was merely so that Misa would have the ability to find him and other notebook users as the story progressed but that was a small thing. She also would only be able to see a person’s name if most the face was revealed although the rules on how that exactly worked were hard to follow and harder to remember.

Eventually after she had finished the explanations he walked over to the desk and pulled out a sheet of paper, looking more determined than he had seen her in some time. She had looked so very tired these past weeks, not afraid as she had been in the beginning but agitated, always on edge. It was still there, she was thinner than she had been a few weeks before, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes but she seemed more present with that pen in her hands than she had been in quite a while. 

“We need to send her a letter, a fan letter, with some coded words in there that Misa will understand but that L won’t. Not from either of us, we make up some fake name and send it using gloves, no finger prints. Does the band R.E.M exist in this universe?”

“Is it American?” Light asked drily, “Now why on Earth would I pay attention to American music? I have no idea.”

A few weeks ago, before college had begun, she would have made some comment about how he was missing out or attempt to convince him that English music was the best there was. Now it was not even mentioned, her eyes so heavy, and the toll L had placed on her had never seemed higher because of it.

“It would be great if it did but I suppose we’ll have to go with something else.”

In the end they had agreed on a letter that praised Misa’s eyes in a context that would seem odd and mentions of shinigami something Light had never conveyed existed to L.

Looking at the draft of the letter from a young college student Takeshi, the rush of planning and think over, she had looked at him and said quietly, “I hope we’re fast enough but if we’re not… There’s only so much I can do.”

In those words were the unmarked graves of inconsequential men who believed they were doing the right thing in the battle against Kira. The uninformed and unenlightened who had merely been unfortunate, the ones she had always claimed to fight for, and the way she said it he knew that she was fully aware of her turning her back on that goal in favor of her own safety.

“Who have you condemned to death this time?” He asked quietly, not accusing, merely allowing the words to sit in the air.

“A few news castors, three cops…”  She trailed off a distant look in her eyes as if she was trying to capture if there had been any others and their unspoken names were so terribly heavy that it stopped her tongue.

She looked so terribly tired, everything seeming to catch up to her in that one moment, and she tried smiling at him for a moment but it drifted from her face.

“Am I doing well, Light?” She asked quietly with such desperation, a tired horrified desperation that he so rarely heard from her.

He didn’t say anything, merely placed a hand on her shoulder, and wondered how much longer she could continue in this state for.

* * *

She had the meeting with Misa Amane planned in her head.

If Misa got the message, which she most likely would, then through an exchange to the fake student Takeshi, whose return address was a mailbox they bribed Ryuk with apples to break into for them, they would set up a time and a place to meet making it seem hopefully like Misa Misa meeting up with a diehard fan.

It would be Light that met with her, Anna would be nowhere in sight. This had taken some initial convincing on Anna’s part as Light did not immediately wish to meet with Misa face to face and be marked as Kira.

She didn’t explain to him how very dangerous Misa was to her, while Light was a killer at least he was rational and L didn’t have supernatural powers to play with. The moment Misa saw Anna’s face, saw her true name, saw her standing next to Light as if she were his friend then it would be over. Perhaps Light could rein her in but there he would be, finally with that instant ability to kill her, so that her death became just as cheap as everyone else’s. It was difficult to get rid of her now and she had her uses so why bother, but in the future, when it was as easy as a name and she wasn’t as useful anymore, what then?

How far did their friendship, their pseudo friendship, whatever the hell they were to one another extend?

How far was she willing to place her faith in Light Yagami?

In the end she didn’t need to explain these things, simply looking at her expression when she had told him the plan and he had objected, realization had quickly dawned in his eyes as if he knew exactly why she was trying to avoid Misa.

So it would be Light that met with Misa, that said whatever to her that convinced her to let Light be in charge and handle the notebooks, that Misa wasn’t to stray out of line and kill people who only morally opposed Kira and committed no grotesque crimes.

“The point of Kira,” She had explained to Light when thinking over the plan one night, safely away from L’s sight as well as anyone else, “Isn’t that everyone agrees with you or worships you but rather to actually be a god. True gods, real gods that aren’t just ideas, aren’t as powerful as they’re worshiped. They’re real and don’t rely on our perception of them, a true god wouldn’t divert itself for petty criminals or those with different opinions, it would do solely what it had set out to do. To somehow condition society away from rape and murder, and that has to be enough Light, that has to stay enough.”

If it went well then Misa wouldn’t even know that Anna Jones existed.

It had not gone well.

The Takeshi scheme was pulled off without a hitch, she got the letter and responded back, asking if she could have a photo of him and how he was liking college. They had undoubtedly garnered Misa Amane’s interest, so much so that it almost distracted from the stress of being stalked by L on campus, which was about as pleasant as it always was.

However she had not realized how much she had been relying on the manga and anime’s limited view of the Death Note universe. There were many small details that were noted, drawn into a frame, or else mentioned in passing but there were still more that were never captured. The world had only viewed what was necessary to the plot and little more, she had almost forgotten that relevant details could exist outside of the original story.

She had not realized that Light, her, and Ryuzaki were still featured on the school’s webpage as having a historic three way tie of one hundred percent score on the entrance exam. Light’s face, staring blankly out at the audience with determination, was plain and clear for the world to see. In the end she hadn’t needed to find a Takeshi at all, and their work was undone before it had begun, and next to him Anna Jones who was only pretending to be Anna Jones was staring with a nervous grin at the speech she was reading unaware of Misa Amane’s Shinigami eyes on her.

Unlucky, so very grossly unlucky, that’s what she ended up thinking to herself.

Perhaps she still could have escaped Misa’s notice at that point, even when Misa had shown up to the house without warning on a week day evening, looking like something that had just crawled out of a Tim Burton film. Perhaps she could have hid in the living room and pretended not to be there, to be somehow unimportant, but the trouble was that she hadn’t been in the living room but instead in Light’s bedroom.

When Light had opened the door, when his eyes had met hers for a moment, she had thought that this was the end. Really and truly the end, as Misa blinked at her first with confusion and then concern, trying to piece her into Kira’s life she thought how fast it was for someone to write down a name and how fast forty seconds truly were.

How could you sum up your life in forty seconds?

He must have pondered it for a second, the way he looked at her with those sharp eyes, and for a moment…

It had only been a moment though, because then he was smiling at her as if he truly was her friend, “Anna, a friend’s just come by, I’m afraid you’ll have to do your homework somewhere else tonight.”

She had never felt so grateful to anyone, that he had given her an out, had allowed her the charade of being Anna Jones. It didn’t matter whether it was for his benefit or for hers, whether it was a whim or something deeper, for a moment she was well and truly grateful no matter how ridiculous the circumstance.

“Oh, right, sorry.” She said standing abruptly feeling as if she was in some surreal and odd dream where Anna Jones and Light Yagami really were just that and nothing more, “I’m Anna Jones, an exchange student from America.”

There was something off about Misa’s eyes, it wasn’t the color, they were a perfectly ordinary brown. They weren’t like L’s eyes, dilated beyond belief, making him look as if he truly were a meth head. There was nothing definably odd about them, but even so that brief moment before Misa introduced herself, the way the blankly stared at her, looking a little above her eye level as if making out letters and numbers was more than a little unnerving. Behind her, with a solemn expression that Ryuk never seemed to wear, was Rem analyzing her with a single golden lizard’s eye. Anna focused on looking at Misa, only Misa, at forcing herself to stare into those eyes and wonder how it had come to this when she had taken such pains to avoid this very meeting.

“Misa Amane, I’m very pleased to meet one of Light’s friends.” She cheerfully smiled at her and offered a hand and Anna shook it with what she hoped appeared as enthusiasm rather than fear.  

“Nice to meet you, I’m sure it’s been a while since you’ve seen Light though, you two will want to catch up. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

As it was, forcing herself to look calm and watch television while Light was upstairs just in case someone caught sight of her when leaving, she ran over the situation over and over in her head.

Misa knew her name, Misa knew she lived with Light, Misa knew that they were close enough to do homework together in Light’s room, that she and Light were at the very least friends or acquaintances. Misa had seen her name, even if she was brushed under the rug by Light she was still there, her name still floating around in her memory just waiting to be matched to her face.

Her life depended on Light’s good will, on his ability to act as if she didn’t matter, on his decision to act as if she didn’t matter and to recognize that this was something he’d have to do if he wanted all his resources available.

In front of the television she felt absurdly as if she was to the point of praying to the fickle and ineffable god that had ruined her life asking to please let her live, because surely there must be some reason she was here, and for that she must live.

Let my faith be rewarded, shallow as it may be, she wanted to scream at the ceiling but she didn’t. Instead she sat, watched television, and just let the thoughts chase each other in her head as they had done so many times before.

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad yet, she told herself, it could be worse. Light could have made her stay, made her seem important and painted a target on her back for Misa. In some ways Misa’s involvement would force her non-involvement later. If Light wanted Misa on his side she would have to be the only woman, there would be no room for Anna in that scheme, but then… Who knew if they would even be around that long, that sort of planning involved thinking past L’s death and…

She had promised herself she wouldn’t think that far ahead.

So she didn’t, with one final deep breath she counted up the facts, the plot points one by one until they were glaring in front of her neatly sorted and appearing somehow manageable. As if by naming them she had some control over them.

L thought she was Kira and had labelled her as the investigation’s primary suspect, Light was leaving her to hang in regards to L just waiting until he thought she had no choice but to use the notebook and off him, Misa Amane knew her real name and if not handled correctly would believe she had more than enough reason to kill her.

Light had once had these very things hanging over his own head, and true he was Light Yagami and she was not, but regardless he had thrived.

If he could thrive then she at the very least could get through it.


	15. Chapter 15

_“When removed by a layer of ink and paper, where characters are caught in frames, they fall a little flat sometimes. Not that they’re not interesting or enthralling, just that you know they’re characters, you know that no matter how you build them up or break them down they’re not like you. So characters like Light seem less frightening, L less creepy, and so on. Misa always seemed insane, even in the manga, now imagine what she would be like if you really met her.”_  

* * *

He was right in that she was something he would never have pictured.

Anna hadn’t given too many details on Misa’s appearance, merely that she was a model, that she was blonde, and that she wasn’t too much older than Light. She had tactfully refrained from mentioning though that Misa Amane dressed like a grotesque version of the magical girl shows Sayu used to watch when she was in elementary school.

She also refrained from mentioning Misa’s frequent use of the third person in reference to herself. There was something so odd about that, as if Misa was more of an idea than an actual person, as if the ‘I’ was elsewhere in that equation and not in Misa at all. Sometimes he thought of himself, Light Yagami, as a mask he wore to please and reassure others and that Kira was his true face but it was only a thought. Misa had gone far beyond thoughts so that it was ingrained in her very speech.

Her first action, after Anna had all but run out of the room with that look that screamed of attempting not to show panic, was to reach out with a black notebook to Light. On the cover were dull silver letters, in a language that looked vaguely like Hebrew, but nothing as eye catching as Ryuk’s scrawled “Death Note” on his.

He reached out and grabbed it, feeling no different before and after, and within a blink there it was the second Shinigami Rem.

And there they were, her bowing before him, Rem gazing down at him with a cold and hard lizard’s eye and Ryuk standing over his own shoulder like a grim shadow. Only Anna Jones was missing from the stage and the hole where she should have been almost burned it was so glaring.

“Well, what a thoroughly pleasant surprise.” He said, she lifted her head, and smiled at him in blank confusion not quite sure what to do with the words or the tone.

He motioned to the bed, “Take a seat, please, I’m sure it took you some time to get here public transportation being what it is.”

She looked over at Rem with an expression of confused wonder before making her way over to the bed, hesitantly sitting down, and eyeing him with awe forming in her eyes, “Were… Were you expecting Misa, Light?”

He paused then, at the way she said his name. Light, the correct pronunciation, which given the kanji was not always intuitive. More than that though there was a familiarity to it, a casualness, which avoided the formal Mr. Yagami and cut right down to Light, as if they were friends if not closer.

“On this night, at this very moment, I’m afraid not; but I was expecting you.”

He was struck for a moment, staring at her as she sat on the bed, by the similarity to his initial meetings with Anna Jones. She had sat in that same spot, he had moved to the computer chair in the same manner, but her eyes had been so very different than Misa’s. There had been fire in her eyes, fear beyond all other things, but determination and rage as well; in Misa’s eyes there was only hope and awe in equal measures as if he was beyond her wildest expectations.

Not stupid, Anna had said, almost as if it was a warning as if he was expected to think she was an idiot. He was tempted, by that flat expression, by her willingness to show him her own notebook; he was very tempted to call her stupid. But warnings from Anna Jones were never to be taken lightly, particularly when her own life was dangling by a thread, so he watched her and continued to piece together the puzzle that was Misa Amane in his head. 

“That’s amazing, isn’t that amazing Rem?” She said grinning over at her companion who said nothing only continued to look at Light, “Misa had no idea, when she first heard about Kira, that he would be so handsome and that he would already be looking for her. You see, Misa has been looking for Kira a long time… Before he existed even…” She trailed off then and gave him a small smile, “Misa owes so much to Kira and she didn’t think he even realized it.”

She cut herself off, flushing, and started again with more determination, “Misa…I was very young when my parents were killed by a robber and I waited for justice to be delivered but when they caught him they let him go. I gave up hope for many years until you came, Kira came, and then… Then justice finally happened…”

(And wasn’t it almost unnerving how she tried to catch herself, between ‘I’ and ‘Misa’, how sometimes when the emotions were too strong that third person took over and the separation showed. She had to slow down and think, to bring ‘I’ into the conversation; otherwise it was only the mask that participated.)

He couldn’t remember the specific thief she was referring to, perhaps slumped somewhere in with a slew of junkies and petty murderers, those who had gone beyond stealing pills and into casual murder when things got too inconvenient. He smiled though at her, “I’m glad I could be of help.”

She grinned happily at him and thrust the notebook, which she had put into her lap, over to him, “Misa offers this, so you know she won’t hurt Kira, because she would never! Not now that she knows he’s her knight in shining armor, a real prince.”

He had planned to ask for it, or else ask that she deliberate to him, but he had not imagined she would place the second notebook directly in his hands. He took it from her, looked through it, looking for names to see what damage she might have done.

He didn’t like this; he didn’t like the idea of Kira’s power and name being out for grabs, he didn’t like the idea that she could touch it or felt she had the right to touch it. Even first hearing the fact that she existed, this second Kira, from Anna Jones he had felt something in him burning. Being Kira was his destiny, his responsibility, only he could do it and that’s how it had always been; she had no right to any of it and she didn’t even seem to realize she was a thief.

There were a few names, not as many as he had written when he thought Ryuk was after his soul, but more than he liked. Scanning through the names he didn’t recognize them, not from his own research, which meant they were pettier criminals than he usually went after or something else entirely.

Concern entered her expression as she watched him read over the names, “Misa didn’t know how she was going to meet Kira at first, when she got the notebook…”

He closed the notebook, breathing out, this was not the time to think over what Misa’s actions could do. He had a role to play, that would come later, when he could ask Anna for the exact details on the damage she could cause. She blabbered on, almost nervously, perhaps feeling the tension.

“Do you have the eyes?”

He looked over and shook his head minutely, “I’m afraid not.”

“I have the eyes, I made the eye deal with Rem. Misa also knows how to kill a shinigami.”

“True love?” He asked feeling the sneer on his face and she stopped, shock blooming on her features, “It’s a story we’ll have to save for a later date, Amane Misa, you see there are some things you must understand if you wish to aid me.”

“Oh, yes, of course!”

“Good, you must understand that L is not a man to be trifled with. That rash actions will lead him straight to our door, because he is very close, not as close as he would like but close enough that treading carefully is a necessity.”

She blinked at him, looking a bit shocked at his words, and shaking her head slightly, “Really? Misa, I, had no idea. On the news it seems like L isn’t a very good detective at all. I never thought he’d be that close.”

Light shrugged stiffly, “Not as close as he’d like but close enough for both of our purposes.” He paused then regarding her, “You do understand what this means though, that it would best that one of us, that I hold onto both notebooks for now so as not to needlessly complicate the already needlessly complicated situation.”

“…Right, right, Misa knows that.” She flushed and looked at her feet, “Misa did give you the notebook, after all. But…”

Here she seemed to gather herself, lose her timidity, and her eyes burned as she stared at him, a crazed and shallow burning, “Misa has decided that Light will be her boyfriend!”

He stared at her for a few moments, wondering if he had possibly misheard, and then, “I’m sorry?”

“Misa saw that white girl in here earlier, just a friend he says, Misa knows what just friends look like! No, she knows exactly what little miss Anna Jones is after, and she won’t stand for it! Misa will be Light’s girlfriend and anyone else who steps near him will die!”

She stood, enraged, her face flushed as if she was having any other normal argument. The shinigami looked down at her and for the first time spoke, “Misa…”

Thinking back he remembered some of Anna’s more vague warnings about Misa, how it would be best if Anna was nowhere near her, that Misa not associate Anna in any way with Light. There had been true fear in her eyes when she had said it, and at the time he had thought it was solely because Light would be able to find out her name, but perhaps it was even simpler than that. Perhaps the true danger lay in Misa herself.

“Ah, well, I suppose I’m flattered but we did just meet.” Light said before adding, “Homicide on that level is also the impulsiveness I was hoping to avoid.”

She flushed, “Misa doesn’t care, Light has to promise to be her boyfriend! To go on dates with her once a week and call her and text her!”

He stopped humoring her then, stopped playing the game, and the pretenses of toleration ended. His voice was like steel then, a thin sliver of metal that was terribly sharp, “If you feel such actions are necessary then I will have no choice but to dispose of you.”

She held up better at that than he expected, quivering only slightly, but standing firmly her ground. That sort of determination was dangerous, that fearlessness presented problems, there had been wariness and caution in Anna Jones’ eyes when she had spoken of Amane Misa and he now realized why. Misa was a dog without a leash and with the power of instant death at her fingertips she could not be allowed to run free.

“If you do such a thing I would write your own name in my notebook, Yagami Light.”

For a moment it was as if his own heart stopped, not in panic, but with the gravity of those words. L’s threat on television hadn’t had the same weight, he hadn’t been in the same room as L, and even then it had been more of the game of cat and mouse than a true threat. This was, he thought to himself, the first time he fully realized that he could die as Kira.

He turned his gaze and caught the eye of that shinigami, the one both Anna and Misa had referred to as Rem, and he could tell merely by looking into those yellow eyes that she was very serious.

“Rem!” Misa said astonished.

“It does not matter Misa, I know what type of human this is.” It wasn’t quite said in condemnation, there was too much resignation involved in it, but certainly her eyes burned as they caught his image, “He will use you Misa, he will take all you have, and when he no longer has a use for you he will throw you away. I do not like this man and I will not let him destroy you.”

“But Rem if you kill him for me then you’ll…” Misa trailed off tears in her eyes and for a moment Light felt he was intruding on some heart felt moment only it was taking place in his bedroom and was in response to a death threat.

“It does not matter, I love you, Misa.”

Light couldn’t help but turn to Ryuk who was looking equally puzzled by the display. Well, he thought to himself, he certainly wouldn’t be expecting a conversation like that with Ryuk any time soon. The very idea of Ryuk declaring his love for Light was in itself extremely disturbing and it was nice to see from Ryuk’s expression that he was equally repulsed by the idea.

Bringing together the last few minutes he thought of what he’d just learned. Misa wanted him for a boyfriend after just meeting him, if he refused then she would go on a homicidal rampage killing every woman he came in contact with not limited to Anna Jones. If he killed her to stifle the possibility of that happening then Rem the shinigami would sacrifice herself for vengeance and dispose of him. All in all, should a single domino fall, it would become a tragedy with a body count to rival a Shakespeare play.  

There were some ways that his association with Anna Jones had allowed him to grow as a person. The most obvious was the ability to stop and think, to take a step back from the goal and wonder what rash action truly bought him, but there were other things he had learned. One, that he had not considered important before this moment, was the ability to take bizarre situations in hand without batting an eyelash.

“Well, then, I can’t promise once a week but I will call.” It seemed for the moment there was nothing to be done.

Still, there was something so humiliating in being a god in one moment and in the next forced with a metaphorical gun to his head to be an insane woman’s boyfriend. One day, he thought to himself, she would regret that overeager approach to snare him.

* * *

“You failed to mention she’s completely insane.”

Light was not pleased after his meeting with Misa and as a result he’d decided to take it out on her. Well, not really, Light taking out his anger usually resulted in mass casualties but he certainly was bitching about it.

As soon as Misa had been out the door, him cheerfully waving her out as she cheerfully waved back, the two shinigami standing over both their shoulders like grotesque shadows, he had pulled her up into his bedroom and locked the door.

“…I thought I did mention that.” She murmured, her thoughts on other darker matters, such as her name and Misa. He could have learned it in that moment, she could have told him unprompted, he could have asked for a favor, she could have decided to dispose of her without Light’s prompting. So many different possibilities and only a name and a face were needed for any of them.

Would it be then, a few hours later, a few weeks, would it be slow or fast, or would it happen at all?

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a cellphone’s obnoxious ringing and looked up to see him typing on it with a murderous expression. So much so that she was surprised the thing wasn’t on fire just from the force of his glaring.

Ryuk meanwhile, had read over Light’s shoulder, and was in hysterics.

“That damn woman!” Light exclaimed, taking an unreasonably long time to text back, but then she supposed this was back in the days when cell-phones were new and expensive and didn’t have keyboards or autocorrect.

Light’s attention moved to her as he was typing, “Miss you, LOL, less than three. What the hell does this even mean?!”

She wondered for a moment if her fickle bastard of a god who had trapped her in another dimension was translating for her because LOL in Japanese really didn’t make too much sense. “Um, well, the less than three is probably a heart, and LOL, means laugh out loud which really doesn’t mean anything.”

He tossed the phone onto his desk once he had hit send and placed his head in one hand running pale fingers through his hair. He then stood, looking very tired, and collapsed onto the bed next to her and started staring at the ceiling.

“You know I always pictured my first serious girlfriend as being less psychotic.”

Well, the conversation probably went about the same as it did in the original then. Thinking back it had been a pretty long conversation, taking almost an entire episode in the anime, so much so that it was hard to grab details out of it. There was a lot said but mostly what she remembered was Light being a creepy asshole and Misa being bizarrely religiously devoted to him within a manner of seconds.

“Oh.” She said, and somehow even with her impending death on her mind she couldn’t help but look over at Light and find it hilarious. In the anime it had seemed less humorous, the ominous church music and religious lighting had forced you to take it seriously, but when in the situation she couldn’t help but realize how ridiculous it really was.

“Don’t act as if you didn’t know.” Light said in a very unamused tone, glaring at her slightly, “Between L the drug addict and now Misa Amane I’m beginning to think that the more bizarre, insulting, and dangerous the situation the more likely it was to be in that original story line of yours.”

His expression fell flat then, the irritation bleeding from his eyes leaving something cold in its place, that slowly burning righteous anger she had seen in his eyes before. He didn’t say as much but she could tell, even then, that Misa had stepped too far without even realizing it.

“You said there was a time frame for meeting her.”

She looked at him nodding before adding, “You mean you didn’t ask her specifics about anything?”

“It wasn’t really a conversation I wanted to get into.” That must have been one trying conversation then.

She found herself hesitating to tell him, because if Misa had already killed the news anchors then it was already too late. Well, that wasn’t precisely true, it would be too late when she sent in the tapes to Sakura’s television station. Still, if they had already been charted for death then they would die for nothing if the tapes weren’t sent in, they’d simply be strange inopportune heart attacks for no reason. And why do it, to save Misa Amane from prison, to save Light from prison?

Having been thrown under the metaphorical bus by Light in regards to L in the past few weeks, and then having watched him gain the ultimate leverage with her name practically in the palm of his hands, she was disinclined to do him too many favors.

It was terrifying how tempting it was becoming, the idea of that notebook, of just asking Light to borrow it for a few minutes. She wasn’t really considering it but it was always there, in the back of her mind, as L continued to stalk her each and every day and now as Misa appeared in the other corner.  

It would be nice to have her own bit of insurance again because a Light who was forced to save Misa Amane from certain death would be less inclined to focus his attention on manipulating her.

Still, there was something about this moment that was almost as glaring an opportunity as saving Raye Penber and Naomi Misora. This was the second great moment when good people needlessly died in Death Note, and to let it go on, to let those police men die with the reporters would make her a hypocrite beyond imagination.

So, she really had no choice after all.

“You have her notebook, right?” She asked and Light gave her a look that clearly doubted her intelligence, as if she was an idiot for thinking he’d leave it anywhere near Misa.

“What names were written in it?” She doubted Misa would have cut the notebook up into pieces like Light so it would be likely that they’d still be in there.

“No one I immediately recognized.” He brought over Misa’s notebook, dustier and more worn than Light’s, and flipped over to the first few pages.

In her time in another alternate universe she had spent some time watching the news and so while most of the names in the notebook were unfamiliar there were a few at the end with descriptions of death beneath that were familiar enough to be worrying.

“Well, shit.” She said.

Light’s expression, when she looked over at him, was positively murderous. Maybe though she had only killed them, had begun planning but hadn’t implemented, after all a lot of work went into that and once Light contacted her it was all moot point.

“She’s killing off news anchors, people who just disagree with Kira.” Anna said and pulled a hand through her hair, “Did Misa say anything about…”

“She mentioned something vague about finding a way to meet me.”

“Shit.” She repeated feeling somehow that this was a great failing of hers as if all her work and all the months had accomplished nothing if she couldn’t stop this moment. So much for all that talk, “Well, hopefully she hasn’t gone through with anything now that she’s found you so soon. There really isn’t a point to it anymore after all.”

“A point to what?” Light asked; his voice filled with that quiet anger that was more terrifying than any screaming could be.

“Remember L’s televised debacle? Well this was going to be about ten times more flashy; complete with police men, live deaths, and car crashes.” She paused then, divorcing herself from the feeling of panic welling inside her, from L and Misa and everything crashing in, “Talk to Misa, not over the phone but in person, maybe on one of your date things and tell her not to do anything stupid. No big shows, no circuses, nothing that would tell L anything… Not to tell you how to do your job but...”

For a moment there was no expression on his face, he just took everything in, and then a slow smile spread across his lips. It was his crazed smile, where the humor burst out of the anger until there was nothing inside of it, only a twisted mimicry of human expression.

“Well, then, it appears I have a reason to go on a date with Amane Misa after all.”


	16. Chapter 16

_“You know you’re life’s pretty messed up when you feel like you’re in the Japanese college version of ‘Arrested Development’. Because really, between Misa, Light, L, Ryuk, and who knows maybe even me we’d be pretty laughable when separated by a television screen.”_

* * *

There was something so unappealing about Misa Amane that it was hard to put into words. Her bizarre overly symbolic and frankly creepy outfits, her overly eager persona, even the adoration in her eyes only served to drive him off.

He’d never seriously thought about having a girlfriend. Anna was right in that he didn’t lack for opportunities in high school, he was fully aware of it, but it had seemed more of a pretense than anything else. As if it would be something that Light Yagami was expected to do but nothing he had any real interest in.

However since he was now forced to have one he decided that he was not going to let his first girlfriend be Misa. Anna Jones had alluded more than once to his apparent ability to have four girlfriends at the same time and he was beginning to suspect that in the original story Misa had played a large part in that decision. No longer did it seem so inconceivable and there was something so humiliating about that.

“If you insist we be seen together in public on a regular basis then I’ll need to associate with other girls as well. L might not suspect me of being Kira but he’s close enough to wonder at sudden changes in behavior.” Light had said to Misa after their first coffee date had ended and they met in his room to discuss more personal matters. Needless to say she hadn’t taken it well at all, threatening to kill all of them, but Light had pointed out that unless she wanted both of them dead instead she’d play nice with Light’s other love interests.

“What about that foreigner who lives with you?” Misa asked with narrowed eyes flicking towards the door as if Anna Jones was eavesdropping right outside of it. Light highly doubted it though, the last place Anna wanted to be was near Misa, and whenever Misa was anywhere near the house Anna was hiding in some other room pretending that she was a normal American teenage girl.

“She doesn’t count.” Light added with a cheerful smile, the one Anna said always hid a monstrous amount of anger and discomfort behind it, the kind of smile everyone knew was fake but no one was willing to confront.

It had probably been a less romantic date than Misa envisioned, consisting of coffee, Light’s announcing of his broadening horizons and then a brief instruction from him that she was not to partake in any action on behalf of Kira without his express permission, but it was the date she got.

Misa said nothing though, merely pursed her lips and looked discontent, “Well, alright, if it’s for Kira. But when L’s dead Misa doesn’t want to see anyone close to Light, ever.”

He didn’t know what he had expected from Anna, perhaps a smug ‘I told you months ago’, mild disgust and condemnation, but it was not the quiet thoughtfulness that he received. She looked out his window, to the corner where the agent had once lurked, and said in a somewhat distant tone, “You know, I wonder how much attention L is really paying to you. It seems like he’s focused on me, but maybe… You might be right.”

Just as L’s thoughts no doubt spun around her she always seemed to be thinking about him. He often was the same himself, especially in those early days when L had first revealed himself as a player, but still to see that tendency in her was odd. Looking at her profile against the window, turned away from him, only a pale sliver of her face visible beneath red hair he couldn’t help but think how far they were from each other.

It was strange, how much that thought disturbed him, as if it was something truly important.

Takada was a nice girl, above average intelligence, professional, driven, fairly pretty, and very interested in him. She enjoyed discussing various aspects of their shared psychology course with him, an excuse to prove to each other how intellectual they both were, and he would take her to lunch on campus or else to walk through the cherry blossoms.

She was the girl everyone expected Light Yagami to date, his mother would no doubt be more thrilled by his relationship with her than his relationship with Misa, and yet he couldn’t help but notice how hopelessly boring she was.

Put together, yes, her life on track, most definitely, but then that was his life before the notebook and he remembered how dull that had been.

Perhaps the worst part of it was though, not that she was boring, not that he had been forced into this situation by Misa, not that Anna was too sucked into her own problems to care, but that L had taken up gossiping with Anna Jones during class about his love life when Light was sitting right there.

“Tell me, Anna Jones, you pay attention to Light Yagami’s sexual escapades how do you feel about his latest conquests?”

They were sitting in chemistry lab, waiting for the reaction to take place, and once again they were at their own table looking like idiots as L perched on his lab stool despite every request from the professor to sit down regularly.

“You mean Takada?” Anna asked her eyebrows raised as she looked from L to Light and back again, “Well, she’s… Not terrible.”

Something about the way she said that, the way her eyes had settled on Light’s for a moment, made him think that there was something terrible about Takada that he had yet to find out. There were times when Anna Jones gave him warnings and there were times when she only gave vague hints, it was always the hints that troubled him the most.

“Not quite the ringing endorsement I was expecting, but then, are you two really just friends?” L asked peering closely at the pair of them as he bit his latex thumb regardless of chemical hazards. There was no incredibly noticeable reaction her part, she stiffened slightly, and her smile was strained as she responded but she didn’t blanch and she didn’t appear terrified.

No doubt L intended to follow this up with a comment that seduction and sexual blackmail would explain why Light Yagami was content to play second fiddle. L’s comments were always a highlight of any given day on campus, Light found, and it made him wonder if L really had any redeeming qualities whatsoever.

“Yes, Hideki, Light and I are just friends and if you start quoting ‘When Harry Met Sally’ I will get up and leave, I swear to god.”

“What is…” L asked no doubt referring to the pop-culture reference that Anna had made that didn’t actually exist.

“Never mind, not important, and I really don’t care what Light does with Takada. That’s his business.” She said cutting off L and then she turned to Light.

“So, Light, let’s talk about something that isn’t your dating life or our relationship or my stalker Ryuga Hideki. How do you feel about chemistry, isn’t it great how much time we have to sit here and talk about our feelings?” She smiled across at him, every fear and irritation displayed in that grin, and he couldn’t help but give a genuine smile back.

“Well, you know how much I love talking about my feelings.” He couldn’t help but add and to his surprise she laughed; for once they had found the same comment funny. They were both, slowly but surely, being driven insane by stress it was really the only reason why the situation was suddenly hysterical.

The image of them in his head, of he and Anna hunched over the table breathless with laughter, and L perched on his stool like some drug addicted overgrown vulture wouldn’t leave and only made the laughter worse.

It didn’t even matter when the professor reprimanded them for their lack of conduct.

“We lead very ridiculous lives.” Anna finally concluded once she had calmed down enough to talk.

Ryuk was no doubt in agreement but the troubling thing was that Light sometimes was as well because when you took a step back from who you were and where you stood you couldn’t help but notice how shallow and fake it all seemed.

And it was worrying, because how could you proclaim yourself a god when you couldn’t even manage to take yourself seriously?

* * *

It was probably because Light had decided to spite Misa in the only way he could that it happened.

Light, Misa, Rem, and her were all still trapped in the Mexican standoff with guns all pointed at each other’s heads just waiting for someone to pull their trigger first. And so they were each testing the waters, in their own ways, Light went on dates with other women to throw off suspicion, Anna put up with L the best she could and made sure that Light had to suffer through his stalking as well, and Misa disregarded an order from Kira. Small things, really, or at least they should have been.

Perhaps she had already sent it in at that point, and there was nothing she could do, but Anna felt watching the Sakura television spectacle that this was Misa’s way of getting back at Light. Because as far as she was aware there was nothing Light could do about this, he couldn’t kill her because of Rem, and he couldn’t take the notebook away from her because he had already done that. He just had to sit and watch and seethe as the metaphorical train wreck occurred.

She and Light were in his bedroom watching on his small television screen the chaos unfold both with the televised deaths of the reporters and then the deaths of the policemen who tried to stop it.

“There goes Ukita.” She murmured when the unmarked car pulled up to the entrance only for its occupant to fall down dead outside the glass doors joining the other two corpses that were already there. Ryuk burst into laughter, at her comment and at the sight, like it was the greatest shit since cracker jacks.

It seemed that her track record wasn’t as good as she was hoping it would be, so far Anna Jones was not succeeding in spite of all the big words she had said. Sure, she had saved the FBI agents and Naomi Misora and perhaps a few petty thieves and junkies along the way but she had failed with Lind L. Taylor and she was failing now.

And the worst part was that she was tempted too tiredly comment, to joke, that Light should be watching out for his father and the armored van that was about to crash through the window. Like she was removed from it somehow, like she was still someone just reading a story.

“I can’t watch this.” She said with a sigh and stood up, giving the television one last look before she left the room.

“I don’t agree with this, you know.” Light blurted, she looked down at him and he wasn’t looking at the television but rather up at her with an oddly uncertain expression in his eyes.

“The reporters, the policemen, all this… razzle dazzle. I don’t agree with it.” He smiled bitterly at her a smile an expression she was unfamiliar with. Light’s smiles were charming, creepy, manic, insane, polite, but she had never seen one so bitter, “Because you’re right, this is cheap, this is theater, and there’s something sickening about it.”

She sat back down next to him, not turning her head to look at the screen, but instead maintaining eye contact with Light. This was the man who was going to let L drive her insane to get what he wanted, who was letting her suffer between a rock and a hard place until she had no choice but to commit murder, so how could his words possibly echo exactly what she had been thinking?

When had they started looking at the same things and having the same thoughts about them? Where Misa was more dangerous than she was useful even with the eyes, that televised death was somehow far more heinous than death itself, and that between L and Misa and everything else they were more like a sitcom than a thriller.

She wondered, looking at him, if he was having that same thought.

And that was the moment Soichiro Yagami chose to crash his armored vehicle into the building, “And there goes your dad.”

“My father?” Light’s head whipped to the screen staring at the truck in disbelief.

“Yup.”

They both stared as the reporter began to excitedly babble about the latest development in the story. The room was silent except for Ryuk’s bursts of hysterics the words, “Your father?!” breaking from him occasionally as the situation just proved to be too much even for him.

“One of these days, I’m going to kill Misa Amane.” His eyes were hard and cold as he said it and in them was none of the madness or anger that was present when he declared that he would dispose of L.

She felt herself grow cold looking at him and her good feeling towards him ebbed out of her slowly but surely. She stood back up, opening her mouth to give a parting word, but then turned on her heel and said nothing leaving the room.

Wasn’t it strange, how you could almost forget how terrible a person really was?


	17. Chapter 17

_“It’s around this time that it becomes difficult to determine sides. I mean, the sides beyond Kira and L, because there are sides beyond Kira and L. The manga never really portrayed it this way but each character has their own goal, their own methods, and lumping Misa and Light together because they have notebooks isn’t necessarily accurate. Just like lumping L and Matsuda together isn’t accurate either. They’re all different people, going after different things and… I don’t really think there are things like sides in the real world.”_

* * *

They turned the television off shortly after the broadcast had been cut short, both staring forward with identical expressions, as if not quite sure what to make of all this. This must be how she felt in the beginning, as if she was staring out at a television screen watching it all take place, and wondering if anyone could truly be this mad.

She had a drawn look on her face, as if this moment, more than L’s persistence, his own presence, or even Misa had been the final blow. She looked as if she was on the verge of cracking, he wondered distantly, if he handed her the notebook now, would she write?

He made no move to retrieve it, just continued to sit on the bed with her, and stare at the now black television screen.

She sighed, suddenly, her eyes closing, and seemed to reach a decision, “Misa’s going to be arrested.”

“What?” He asked turning to look at her.

“I was hoping that she wouldn’t do this, that we’d somehow… She must have taken a bit of the notebook with her or else asked Rem to do it. It’s a favor so maybe it doesn’t count as killing for her, Misa wasn’t in any mortal peril… Either way, if she has a piece of the notebook on her you need to get rid of it.”

He felt the room grow cold as he stared at her, at the way she was staring past him, already beyond that casual fact she had mentioned. He hated it when she did this, when she reduced his life to meaningless drawings with a few words, prescience was such a dehumanizing gift and there were times when he loathed it, “What do you mean Misa’s going to be arrested?”

She looked at him, her eyes distant, as if she was remembering something important but there was no panic in them only resignation. As if it had always been coming to this and any attempt to divert it was nothing short of foolishness.

“Misa tried to be smart, when she sent it in to the station, but she wasn’t as careful as she thought. There’s DNA on that package, they’re going to trace it back to her, and she’s going to be arrested.”

For a moment he was tempted to ask why she hadn’t bothered to tell him, only she had, she’d told him to keep a very close eye on Misa to make sure she did nothing stupid or eye catching. She’d told him weeks before this date, to find Misa, to get her on a short leash. She’d told him, had sacrificed her own name to do it, and yet they had still failed.

Misa arrested, it was a complication, one he didn’t need. One he never would have envisioned when he first decided to be Kira in the fall, after all how could he have pictured two competing Kiras then, the idea of Misa had been an impossibility.

But it wasn’t a disaster, he’d been without Misa before, and he’d been careful to keep them distant only… If Misa had a piece of the notebook still on her…

“You think she kept a piece of…”

If Misa had a piece of the notebook on her and L found it then L would find Rem, if L found Rem then Rem might choose to strike a deal and give up Yagami Light for Misa’s freedom… Perhaps, there were a lot of variables in play, Misa’s devotion to Light, Rem’s trust of L, but never the less the last thing he wanted was L with a piece of the notebook.

And somehow, just looking at Anna Jones’ face, it seemed like the last thing she’d wanted to.

They rarely discussed it, but he felt that she realized that it could have been much worse than Kira, Misa could have picked up the notebook originally or perhaps a gang leader. The notebook didn’t have to be used to create the new world, it could have been a tool of corruption, of death, of tyranny and if the notebook left Light’s hands there was no telling where it might go.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, she’d decided that if she couldn’t burn the notebooks then she would have to trust him with their safety because while disapproving of him in principle she knew he was not the worst.

She continued speaking, hesitantly, no longer reading off a script but forced to use her own deductive reasoning, “I… Either she has a piece of the notebook or she asked Rem to kill them for her. I hope she asked Rem to kill them for her, I mean that’s not great either but… Light, you need to find out, any way you can.” She was looking at him with a desperate expression and then with a sharp intake of breath he realized why. Anna Jones was prompting him to seduce Misa Amane; to get the information out of her in the easiest way he could devise.

And perhaps he would have, had Anna Jones never intervened in his life, he would have thrown himself into the performance Misa craved. But now it felt as if something was crawling inside him at the very thought of it.

“Light, we can’t let her keep it, even if she wasn’t going to be arrested… She can’t keep the notebook, you saw what she did with it, I’d rather you have it than... That’s not saying I’m approving of murder but... Better you than a lot of other people.” She grabbed his hands, her own shaking, and he wondered if this was the first time she’d voluntarily touched him like this.

“Please, Light, even you can’t want that.”

So it was days later that Light had agreed to meet Misa Amane for dinner, in a restaurant that was far too expensive and with lighting that was far too romantic, and was in the process of swallowing his pride.

He looked at her as she walked in, dressed in black frills and laces, her eyes obscured by too dark shadow and her hair in pig-tails. He took in every detail of her, her wide eyes, her bright smile, the childish spring in her step, and he thought about how one day he was going to kill this woman. He was going to kill her for forcing him into this position, for forcing him to think about how she could kill his sister, his mother, even Anna Jones without batting an eyelash if he didn’t say the right thing to placate her.

He was going to kill her, someday, somehow, and until that day he would content himself by picturing it over and over again.

And she would never see it coming.

“Hello Misa, I see you’ve been busy.” He pulled out her chair for her, a true gentleman, and she flushed before sitting in it; preening.

He wondered if she knew how easy it would be, if that damned shinigami wasn’t hovering over her shoulder, how easy it would be to destroy her. He honestly couldn’t tell.

“Light, Misa’s so happy to see you, she’s missed you. You barely answer her calls and she hasn’t gone on a date with Light in forever!” She whined hugging him and kissing him on the cheek before he could dart back to the other side of the table, she giggled at his stunned expression, at the way he tentatively touched the lipstick she’d left behind.

He brushed it off delicately, with a smile, that charming smile that everyone loved so much and sat down at the other side of the table taking her hands.

“I’m sorry Misa, you know how work gets in the way sometimes.” He said, tracing circles on the back of her hand with his finger, she looked as if she was almost high on the physical contact.

Cute, she was so cute, a forced cute that was lodged down your throat until you were all but choking on it. Not beautiful, not sexually appealing, not even real, but cute.

“Oh Misa knows,” Misa said, nodding vigorously, because of course she was a great supporter of his work, “Misa knows only… She sees you around that foreign girl an awful lot, if you can make time for her you can make time for Misa.”

And there it was, the point, she was staring at him and there was steel in her eyes then. This was a threat and she knew it; she was waiting to see how he would take it. Swallowing his pride took far more effort than he dreamed imaginable.

“But Misa, Anna means nothing to me, I don’t need to think to be around her… When I’m around you, or I want to be near you, I get so flustered that my heart races at the very sight of you.”

A flush began to rise in her cheeks, if he looked closely he could see lights dancing in her eyes, her hands squeezed his tightly for reassurance. “Light… Misa had no idea… Misa thought…”

Light let go of one of her hands to cup her face, to let his hand linger next to her eyes, “How could I possibly be attracted to that lazy, arrogant, loud mouth slob when I’ve met you. You’re my princess, Misa.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, unable to know how to proceed, he’d probably just spoken aloud one of her fantasies. She looked on the verge of swooning, of accidentally knocking over a wine glass, but luckily was saved from this by the appearance of the waiter.

It was with much blushing and stammering that she managed to place an order, a small salad, and then turned her attention back to Light.

“Light… Light doesn’t have to try for Misa, Misa knows he’s already perfect… Misa, I just want to see him more often…”

“I’m sorry you felt that way but I… I just didn’t feel prepared and with people looking over my shoulder…” She knew his reasons for the girls besides Anna Jones already, that if he was going to start dating one girl then he needed to show a lot more interest in other girls as well.

She looked a little upset with that, her lips pursued, but she was still high on romantic visions and was going to let it slide. Now, the question was how to proceed.

He couldn’t ask during dinner, he’d have to make small talk instead, no worse than small talk he’d have to indulge her fantasies. He’d need to head back to her apartment, it had only been a day, they couldn’t have bugged the place yet or set up surveillance. There the conversation, the fantasy would continue, perhaps further than he ever desired to take it and then somewhere in the middle he’d ask his question.

Just how had she been clever enough to kill those police men without a notebook?

No.

No, he didn’t want to visit her apartment, that was too close and someone might remember seeing him there if L asked. Of course, L thought he was Anna Jones’ underling but all the same that was too close.

No, they’d take by the river, a nice moonlight stroll. He’d play up her idea of romance, rather than sex, she’d like that. And then after kissing her, reaffirming his love for her, then he’d ask.

Yes, that was much less dangerous, much less traceable, much less humiliating… He still hated the idea of it, something in him twisting, even if it was necessary.

Until then, he had to smile as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen, as if she was worth more than the world itself, as if she was truly a goddess.

When had acting become so terribly difficult?

* * *

The day Misa was arrested she didn’t catch a glimpse of L’s name like she had in the anime. She wasn’t running around campus, catching L’s attention, or getting autographs. Instead she’d been in her apartment, having been satisfied by Light’s efforts and not seeing the need to seek him out at school.

Light had been sparse with the details of that particular incident and she’d wondered for a moment if he’d taken her home and…

But his clothes had been too neat, it was too early into the evening, and he’d looked only emotionally fatigued instead of anything else. Still, whatever he’d said, or done, it seemed to have worked.

“It was Rem.” He’d explained shortly before throwing his jacket onto the floor, an action that was so unlike him that it was like he’d just backhanded someone in front of her. She was so used to his habits, his cleanliness, that something like this was pretty much screaming at her.

It suddenly hit her, Light hated Misa.

She didn’t know why she hadn’t noticed before, maybe because in canon she was a tool more than she was a person. He’d disliked Misa in canon, had been willing to write her off and abandon her, but he hadn’t despised her. Here, now, Light hated Misa more than he might even hate L.

She had no idea what to say, so she said the first stupid thing that popped into her head, “I’m sorry.”

He gave her a thin, ironic, smile that cut deeper than even his crazed manic grins, “Whatever for, Anna?”

Light called Misa more often, on the cellphone she had given to him, and even though he didn’t meet her in person again (met with Takada, hung around Anna) whatever performance he’d given was top notch enough to restore her faith in him. So Misa never appeared randomly on campus, demanding to see her boyfriend, and catching sight of L’s name.

They ended up hearing about Misa’s arrest from L himself, on a park bench, in the middle of their college campus.

He was sitting under a still blooming cherry tree, staring forward seemingly at nothing, and when Anna first spotted him she had the overwhelming urge to take Light and just run away before they’d have to talk to him. But as usual, she had no luck at all, and L’s head swiveled towards them like a demented owl.

“Ah, if it isn’t my dear friends Anna Jones and Light Yagami.” L said at the sight of them, and she and Light just stopped walking, both of them glancing at each other and mentally preparing themselves for another conversation with L.  

Talking with L was always exhausting, even if he didn’t bring up Kira. For her it was just an exercise in sheer panic and terror but Light wasn’t really all that fond of them either. L probably would have been this terrible to deal with even if he wasn’t a detective and instead was just a normal person like the rest of them.

There was no better way to kill any mood than to have L show up.

“Oh, hey Ryuga, it’s so nice to see you…” Anna said, not bothering to sound at all sincere about it, and just like usual it brought a little smile to L’s lips as if he expected nothing less from her. L really enjoyed this sort of thing, it made his day, and she was glad that somebody was getting a kick out of it because she certainly wasn’t.

“I’ve been thinking about the Kira case.” He said when they approached him, “It’s turned out, well, even more complicated than I expected.”

“Are you talking about Kira’s televised meltdown?” She asked her eyebrows raised, and his fingers twitched at her casualness about it, as if it was somehow an insult to him rather than to Kira.

“Yes, that…” L said sticking his thumb between his teeth, “Of course, she’s not really Kira.”

L had never invited either her or Light to help him track down Kira and investigate the tapes, possibly because Misa had only sent one tape in rather than several, or else because L wasn’t after Light this time (who had a history with detective work and a good reason to be on the task force) but instead Anna Jones who really had no reason to be involved at all. Either way as she’d waited for Light to get his invite, to have some deductive test, it’d never come and instead they’d remained normal university students.

This was the first time, other than telling Anna that she was the main Kira suspect, that L had brought his work with him to the university.

“Not…” Light started, looking shocked by L’s declaration, and perhaps he was that L had managed to actually deduce it. Of course, it wasn’t really difficult to realize it wasn’t the original Kira, Light would have had to have gone off the deep end to do what Misa had done.  

“She lacks his finesse, his philosophy, she’s more… crude than the real Kira. And it shows of course.” He seemed put out by this, by Misa, and if Anna had to take a crack at it she’d guess that L just liked Light as Kira better.

Light was more clever, more of a Hannibal Lector type character, there was danger and intrigue surrounding Light but there was also class and suave. Light was the villain in a spy film, charismatic and charming even while despicable.

Misa was Buffalo Bill, there was little that drew you into her, and she didn’t manage to make her deaths as pretty or acceptable as Light did. There was no glory in chasing her, no clever traps to undo.

Then something caught Anna’s attention, the way he’d talked about Misa and about Kira, his use of pronouns, “You think she’s a girl?”

“Hm, yes, she’s not nearly as clever as she thinks she is; and of course if I couldn’t deduce her gender what kind of a world class detective would I be?” L said giving her a slight smile behind his thumb, still looking a bit too pensive for this conversation, as if he was in the middle of some crucial game and every moment counted.

“But you said that you think I’m Kira, and you said ‘he’.”

There was a pause where L just looked at her, straight at her, as if into the very depths of her soul and musingly he said, “Did I? Forgive me, I’m so used to referring to Kira as an idea, as a deduction yet to be made, that sometimes I gloss over specifics like gender.”

Bullshit, she thought, and he knew it to. They both knew that L hadn’t just slipped up in that moment, maybe he referred to Kira as a man in front of the task force, even while insisting that Anna Jones was their best bet, but he wouldn’t have done it here. L didn’t think she was Kira, or he was trying to make her believe that he didn’t really think she was Kira, maybe L knew it was Light but was trying to get her to break first.

Because if he could get through her then he could get to Light.

Or he really did think it was her, somehow, inconceivably, and he wanted her to flip shit in the middle of a college campus.

It was then that she realized she was have a Light Yagami style, overthinking, meltdown in the middle of the road spurred on by L. She was having an “I am L” moment; she took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“Well, Kira probably is a man anyway. Since I’m actually, you know, not Kira.” She said with a sigh, sticking her hands in her pockets, “Or maybe it’s this Kira you’ve tracked down; since it’s hard to imagine two people with god like powers walking around.”

“I sincerely doubt it, no, unfortunately this is a second Kira. Or, I should say was…”

Well shit, Light tensed next to her, and it was a little less cheerfully that he asked, “Was?”

“I normally wouldn’t tell this to civilians, certainly not to suspects themselves, but I’ve decided to extend Light and possibly you as well, Anna, an offer.” Here he stood, hunched over, staring without blinking at the pair of them, “Light Yagami, aspiring detective, brilliant student, who has helped with police cases numerous times in the past with quite the success record. His best friend the American Anna Jones, who shows perhaps even more potential than Light Yagami himself… I’d like to formally invite you to join the task force and aid in the capture of Kira.”

And there it was, their offer, Light’s offer, the one she’d been waiting for but had never come. L’s chance to have them nice and close and watch exactly how they thought and worked under intense pressure; just a little later than before.

“Aid in the…” She started, stunned, because somewhere in the back of her head she realized it was completely ridiculous to employ a recent high school graduate as a detective even if she seemed like a super genius. Light was one thing, but Anna Jones, it was ridiculous.

“If you are innocent, as you claim, then you’ll have a burning desire to capture the true Kira and prove me wrong. After all, if you refuse, and I fail to find some other suspect, then I can’t guarantee your safety.” L said, and why didn’t he ever look away from her when he said this kind of stuff? Why did he always have to stare right at her face and force her to look back? No one made this much eye contact, certainly not in Japan, and it was beyond disturbing.

“Are you threatening her so that we’ll both join the Kira task force?” Light asked, looking shocked, horrified, and a little insulted; which, strangely enough, was probably close to how he really felt about the situation. L had a talent for being so absurd that he made Light’s act into something resembling reality.

“Was that a threat? Oh dear.” L mused, “Still, I may have caught one false copycat Kira but I would like help in catching the true one. So what do you say, Anna, Light?”

He held out a hand to the pair of them, staring at them intently, and for a moment she and Light just looked at each other and it was like a wordless conversation had taken place because in the end they both took his hand and shook.

“Let’s catch that son of a bitch.”


	18. Chapter 18

_“I really have nothing to say about this except that things went exactly as I expected when I first arrived just… Somehow I’m always still surprised.”_

* * *

L did not leave them much time to think. As soon as he’d been given Anna Jones’ rather dramatic assent they’d been picked up in his Rolls Royce and driven to wherever it was that he worked. All the while inside the sleek black car L’s eyes had never left Anna once, watching the perspiration drip down her forehead, and neither of them said a word.

Light, for his own part, divided his thoughts between Misa’s arrest (which he had been warned about in advanced and had taken steps to mitigate it as far as possible) and the game L was playing in regards to solving the Kira case.

For whatever reason L had taken a look at the pair of them, had decided that they were both involved, to a point but had gone from there to label Anna Jones as the killer. And yet… And yet he was not always consistent with his language, as Anna had so artfully pointed out.

Suspecting Anna as Kira, pushing Anna Jones into as far a corner as she could squeeze into, was a clever play whether she was Kira or not. If she wasn’t Kira then L had the weakest link and could wait until she broke and if she was Kira then it was very likely that one of these days she would panic and do something very stupid; because at the end of things Anna Jones was only a high school graduate in a foreign country.

So perhaps, to L, it didn’t matter whether Anna Jones or Light Yagami was Kira; together they formed Schrodinger’s cat. So long as L didn’t know they could both be Kira in the same instant, only when he closed in would he figure out which was which and why.

And yet, he hadn’t once looked Light in the eye when they stepped into the car, only at Anna Jones who stared straight ahead as if he wasn’t even there.

“Hyuk, hyuk, things are picking up pretty fast, aren’t they Light?” Ryuk whispered in his ear, his laughter like the buzz of mosquitos, almost too obnoxious to ignore.

“Why did you decide to invite us to the task force?” Light asked, perhaps a bit suddenly because both Anna and L looked at him in surprise, as if they’d both fully intended to ride to wherever they were going in complete silence.

“Hm, that’s a very good question.” L commented, placing his thumb between his teeth again, as he always did and glancing over towards Light as if he’d only just realized that Light existed.

“You’re not actually going to answer, are you?” Anna asked, rather drily with a rather resigned look that showed how little faith in L she really had at this point. And like Light had never said anything at all L turned back to Anna Jones.

“I suppose you’re thinking that you’re both very young to be working in the homicide division on a case of this magnitude. This is undoubtedly true, given that you Anna Jones have no experience what so ever. Never the less…”

“Never the less?” Anna prompted with raised eyebrows. To this L said nothing merely smiled without showing his teeth, a slight quirking of the lips that made him look like an overgrown child, and the rest of the car ride was silent.

They drove through what seemed like all of Tokyo until they stopped downtown in front of a very prestigious hotel. Together, with the elderly European driver, they walked in and rode the elevator up, watching as all the floors lit up one by one.

Finally they reached a large suit and the old man opened the doors to reveal a flat television screen, a handful of worn police men who looked as if they had been locked in their for days, papers strewn everywhere, and the most French pastries that Light had ever seen outside of a café or bakery.

Most noticeable of all though were the large screen televisions in the back of the room, showing multiple views of a dark room, where a figure in white was strung against a board in the middle of a frame looking at a distance like Jesus during the crucifixion. He knew what this was, exactly what this was, but he couldn’t ask before given the opportunity.

(He had blindfolded her, pinned her straight jacket to a board, only her mouth was free so she might at any time confess…)

The future in which he was captured by L, killed by L, suddenly no longer seemed a distant possibility. The game was real and it was lethal; Light could not afford to lose.

At the sound of the door the men looked up, rubbing their eyes and growing beards, and then their eyes widened at the fact that L and the old man had brought guests.

“Light!” His father exclaimed standing and walking towards him hesitantly. He seemed… better than he had looked in the hospital, his skin still had a green cast, but he did not look as on the verge of death as he had been in that bed.

“Hello, dad.” Light said hesitantly, not entirely sure how he would have felt about this situation without being Kira, he too would no doubt feel surreal and somewhat out of place. It was strange, Light had considered all the different scenarios in which L might reel him in, and this one had crossed his mind and yet… And yet it still felt so odd.

“Hi Mr. Yagami.” Anna said somewhat awkwardly waving her hand sheepishly and looking like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world. For a moment everyone in the room turned to stare at her, and it was as if the temperature had dropped several degrees, making it all too clear that L had conveyed his suspicions on exactly who Kira was.

The rest of the task force was using this moment to make up their minds, to decide if this schoolgirl really could be a ruthless serial killer. There was doubt in their expressions but also more conviction than Light would have expected given who their suspect was. These men had faith in L, it was tried, but they were willing to go out on a very long limb based on his conclusions.

How far could they bend though before the broke?

Because the fact was that L was wrong, Anna Jones was not Kira, and no matter how far he went to prove it he would be unable to simply for the fact that it was not true. He could persuade and push but reality worked against him and all of his arguments could be proven to be paper thin. So how far would they go before they lost faith completely?

None of them, he noted, seemed at ease with the surveillance they’d placed upon Misa Amane and the lengths they were going to get their confession. None of them had offered an explanation for the woman on the screens or even looked in her direction.

“Miss Jones.” His father said, offering no niceties beyond this causing Anna to look, if possible even more awkward.

“If you don’t mind me I’m going to go be that awkward person who stands by the food all night and eats her feelings…” Anna muttered before stepping past his father, and several other officers, to reach over to the table and take a chocolate éclair from the enormous pile.

No one said anything to this of course, simply watched as Anna finished the first éclair and reached for a second, inspecting it dutifully as if it was a particularly fascinating work of art before taking a bite. She also was doing her best, Light noted, to not look at the screens in the back of the room also knowing exactly what they contained perhaps knowing even more details than Light.

The only sound was the ticking of the clock and Ryuk’s hysterical laughter and exclamations, “Shit, Light, I love this girl.”

She turned to Light then, motioning to the table, “You want any, Light? They taste really French.”

“No thank you.” Light said, wondering if she was doing this on purpose, to deflect the suspicions of her being a serial killer or if she really felt that there was no better response to this situation. Sadly, he honestly couldn’t tell the difference.

“Anna Jones, Light Yagami, may I present you to the investigative task force formed to capture Kira and bring him to justice.” L finally said, having waited past any bounds of human decency to introduce the pair of them, “Officers Matsuda, Aizawa, Yagami, and Mogi have been aiding me for a number of months on the case. Light, as you know, is chief Yagami’s eldest son who has a history of aiding the police and Anna Jones…”

L trailed off, tilting his head as he looked at her, looking as if he was hard pressed to come up with a succinct explanation of who she was and why she was qualified to be in this room. “Is an American exchange student who is quite brilliant if inexperienced and quite possibly the original Kira.”

Well, L had never used subtlety while at university, why on earth would he feel the need to use it here? Light watched their reactions, they were uncomfortable with this, Matsuda looking flushed and somewhat flustered and Aizawa somewhat hostile. Clearly they had not expected L to be this tactless and blunt when introduced to their suspect.

“…Thank you, Ryuzaki, I really needed that introduction. I now feel so much better about all of this.” Anna responded gaining that exasperated and tried expression she often wore in L’s presence at university; as if this hotel room was no different than any lecture hall or laboratory.

L went on to explain the need for aliases, suggesting Light use the falsified surname that his father had taken up during the investigation, but he could tell no one was really listening. Instead they were watching Anna Jones and attempting to make up their minds. To them they had already found and caught one Kira, they had found her with conclusive evidence, and yet L said now that there were two Kira’s and that the first, who L called more refined, was younger and a foreigner.

They didn’t understand the mind-games L was playing that this was not a case of straight forward deduction but instead a psychological unwinding until a breaking point was reached. They didn’t seem to get that Anna Jones as a Kira suspect wasn’t the final point in this venture.

“Anna,” L finally said after finishing, looking over at her, and as usual Light felt as if he was somehow removed from the room when L stared at her. L looked at her as if she was the only person in the world and that everything somehow lead back to her.

Light didn’t know how to label it, there was no real emotion behind it, just intensity…

What did L see when he looked at her that Light couldn’t?

“If you don’t mind I’d like to demonstrate your deductive capabilities.” L said walking towards one of the open chairs and perching himself (Light had tried to come up with another word for how L sat but had never managed to find it) upon it.

Matsuda made room on the couch for her offering a brief and quiet hello as she took a seat. “My deductive capabilities?” She asked raising her eyebrows dubiously.

“Yes, you see, it is one thing for me to invite Light Yagami who many on this task force have familiarity with. The young Mr. Yagami has formal experience, has proven himself to be highly capable, and more is chief Soichiro Yagami’s own son. You, however lack any formal experience.”

“Yes…” Anna replied with a look that asked what he was trying to get at with these obvious remarks.

That smile appeared again, only for a moment, and irrationally Light felt himself hate L a little bit more because of it.

“So, I feel that it’s best that I help prove to my colleagues your profound potential in the art of deductive reasoning.” L finished for her while clearing the space in front of her, removing various cheesecakes, and placing down a single blank sheet of paper and a pen.

“What if I don’t have any deductive reasoning?” Anna asked drily with raised eyebrows.

“Then I will look like an idiot.” L responded shortly before musing, “Of course, look too stupid and I’ll see it for a ploy to throw me off of your scent. If I were you then I’d do my best after all, if you truly aren’t Kira, then you will have a profound desire to do all you can to aid in the capture of the true killer.”

Anna’s eyes flicked to the television screens, to Misa almost unrecognizable inside them, and then back to L’s with fear blatantly showing within them.

With that L clicked the pen and handed it to her, “So, Anna, would you like to play a game?”

* * *

She’d done a few competitions when she was younger, where it seemed like everyone was watching and judging your performance, and you waited in anticipation to start and get it done with as the waiting was the most excruciating part.

She’d never done anything with these stakes.

Because the stakes, while unsaid, were as clear as the camera footage of the blindfolded Misa on the television screens. The picture no one was looking at yet, that they all kept glancing at and waited for the other to bring up first, the elephant to trump all other elephants crammed into small rooms.

Mess up, Anna Jones, and that could be you.

She didn’t glance up at the ceiling, did her best to keep her eyes on L, but all the same she cast her prayers up to heaven and was begging the god up there, the one who’d thrown her into the world of fiction, that if he could get her one hundred percent on an exam he could have her pass this with flying colors to.

If there was any pity in his cold black heart he’d let her prove her deductive reasoning; whatever the hell that even meant and whatever kind of a test that might be.

In the meantime everyone was watching her in anticipation, doubt in their expressions as well as curiousity, as if by L believing in her abilities she must truly be as good as he thought. Which, well, if one looked at her miraculous test scores than yes but those were very fake.

And like they hadn’t been waiting at all L was talking, “Albert and Bernard just became friends with Cheryl, and they want to know when her birthday is. Cheryl gives them a list of ten possible dates: May 15th, 16th, and 19th; June 17th and 18th; July 14th and 16th; and finally August 14th, 15th, and 17th…”

For a moment she just wanted to blink at him, not understanding, but then her brain caught up to her hands and she started to write.

Hurriedly she began scribbling down the months and days forming a chart as L hadn’t been kind enough to tell her if this was timed or not. Not that she had any idea what Albert, Bernard and Cheryl’s birthday had to do with solving murders but hell if she was going to disregard his question because of that.

“Cheryl then tells Albert and Bernard separately the month and the day of her birthday respectively. Albert and Bernard then meet up and discuss it with each other.

Albert first says, ‘I don’t know when Cheryl’s birthday is, but I know that Bernard doesn’t know either.’

Then Bernard responds, ‘At first I didn’t know when Cheryl’s birthday is, but I know now.’

Hearing that Albert exclaims, ‘Then I also know when Cheryl’s birthday is!” L paused here, looking intent, staring at the graph she had drawn and then asked, “So, Anna, when is Cheryl’s birthday?”

Now, she was actually fairly decent at math. She wasn’t doing Calculus at the age of six but she was fairly good at it and if one removed the cheating deity from her work then she would have scored highest in mathematics in her various exams and classes. She might not be Light but that didn’t make her Sayu either.

So Anna Jones staring across at L, and then down at her paper, recognized a math problem when she saw one. A logic problem might be a better term but still, math, and nothing to do with murders or dying people or convicting someone of being a serial killer.

It was the type of question you might see on the SAT or a math competition test but it wasn’t the killer of all questions. There certainly were harder ones he could have asked and she was left wondering if this was the question he intended to ask or if the god had really answered her prayers and delivered an easier problem.

Except if he was going delivering easier problems he might as well deliver one really simple like two plus two rather than a problem that still needed to be solve even if it was solvable. Glancing at Light he also seemed somewhat puzzled by the question as well as the rest of her audience, so clearly Jehova was not doing his job here…

Or something else was going on.

Why did every conversation she had with L have to descend into mind games? Couldn’t they just have one conversation where it didn’t give her a migraine trying to figure out just what the hell he thought he was doing?

“Your answer, Anna?” L prompted, tapping a finger against the page she had given.

“Right, well it’s a problem of elimination. Albert’s been told the day and Bernard the month and from there we can go onwards to solve the problem by looking at their conversation one line at a time.” She traced the table of dates that she’d written on the piece of paper, “First we know that Albert states that he doesn’t know but that Bernard doesn’t know either. If Bernard had known then we would know that it’s a unique day in the table, only one month has that day.”

She took up the pen and crossed out May and June, “Because we know that Bernard doesn’t know it means that months that have these unique days can be eliminated which in this case is June and August. Now we only have dates in July and August to consider. With the elimination of May and June Bernard says that he knows what day the birthday is meaning that it can’t be August 14th or July 14th as these aren’t unique days leaving August 15th, 17th, and July 16th. Then Albert says that he also knows, and if he knows it means it has to be the date in July since if it was a date in August he wouldn’t be able to tell.”

With that she circled July 16th and looked around to see if anyone was actually impressed. Light looked mostly indifferent, which wasn’t surprising, he’d probably been solving problems like this since he was five and the others were torn between being confused and impressed."

L was the only one who seemed pleased, “Congratulations, Anna, you’ve just displayed your abilities in deductive reasoning.”

She hadn’t, she must have looked dubious because he continued, “Sherlock Holmes may make the process look a little more impressive than it is but at the end of the day the deductive process is to make logical connections from known truths. For example I know that Kira has a tendency to kill at certain hours of the day which indicates that he is a student and from that, and other clues, I will eventually be able to deduce exactly who he is.”

By doing math… Well, she wasn’t going to say anything to that, or the fact that while he was talking about Kira he was looking straight at her and nowhere else and still using ‘he’ as the pronoun.

She was beginning to think that L got off on these mental gymnastics he initiated. He must have been terrible to deal with as a child. 

He probably did have a point though, in fact she’d probably said something similar to Light at one point or another, life wasn’t like manga or any sort of television. It wasn’t flashy, genius wasn’t necessarily baffling, and the trick of having a character come to conclusions quickly with leaps of logic didn’t necessarily reflect on true deduction. She just hadn’t expected L to say that to her, or explain it via math.

“And that’s it?” She asked, L had already moved onto the éclairs which were really good she had to admit but still.

“Would you like to solve another one?” L asked looking completely perplexed by the question, as if there was no need for her to prove herself further, or more likely because there was no point to it since it wouldn’t help him figure out how she ticked.

“… No…” She finally said, really not sure how to take any of this, not that she ever had any idea how to respond to L in any situation. No wonder Light had spent his every waking moment thinking about him in canon it was exhausting.

“I believe you will prove your worth in time.” L said, “There is a ninety five percent possibility.”

“What’s the other five percent?” She asked and here he smiled, that weird L smile that only he did.

“That you’re Kira.” She really should have seen that one coming, like the punchline of a really terrible pun that just wouldn’t die. Sometimes the way he said it, so casually, she almost forgot they were talking about her life.

Almost.

“You mentioned something about a second Kira?” Light asked sitting down in one of the few open seats looking as if this was the moment this meeting was truly starting and judging by everyone else’s expression the moment they had started as well.

“Yes, I believe I did.” L said and then motioned towards the screens, “Amane Misa, model in a teenage magazine and budding pop star, and our second Kira suspect. Of course, with DNA evidence, I’m willing to go so far as to say she is the second Kira.”

For a moment they all looked at the screens, at Misa inside them, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Matsuda swallowing nervously at the sight. Anna couldn’t tell how long Misa had been in there, she didn’t look good, but it was hard to tell when so little of her face was visible.

“DNA evidence?” Light asked, still watching the screens.

“You remember that debacle with Sakura television?” L asked rhetorically, he knew very well that she and Light had been paying very close attention, “She sent in those tapes earlier and forgot to wear gloves when she mailed it. A small thing, but more than enough.”

With that L also turned his attention to the screens, “What will be interesting, beyond her confession, is whether she knows the original Kira.”

She wondered if L could tell, the moment she and Light both shared a wordless thought, and their eyes turned towards him.

“Do you think that’s likely?” Light asked and L said nothing for a moment, just tapped his long index fingers against the plate he was holding.

“I think she had a very odd change of character since her debut. The incident at Sakura Television was… dramatic to say the least more it revealed certain aspects of the power that Kira had not revealed, such as a name not being necessary. Since that incident however nothing else has happened and news castors and journalists haven’t been targeted since that incident. Now, perhaps she got what she wanted out of that publicity stunt, had it been the original Kira I would say it’s a reminder of the Lind L. Taylor incident… But this isn’t that same Kira and so I can’t help but feel that something stopped her from pulling a second stunt in the time between then and when we arrested her. It hasn’t been too long since that incident so perhaps she was still gauging reactions and planning but perhaps…”

“Perhaps Kira reached out to her.” Anna Jones finished causing L to smile over at her as if she deserved a cookie for that particular answer. And that was a little too close for comfort, because that actually was what happened, not the exact order but Anna had reached out to Misa.

That was terrifying for a moment she didn’t care how he had done it, whether he really could have gotten that through logical reasoning alone, or whether he was pulling a National Treasure and getting the right answers from his ass but it was terrifying. Because these men believed him and if he said she was Kira if he somehow found a way to pin it on her then she didn’t know what would happen to her.

Or maybe he knew it was Light but was willing to do to her what he was doing to Misa right now. Using her as a stepping stone to corner him not caring what happened to her because of it.

For the first time in a very long time she realized that she might just end up dead at the end of this.

And then there Misa’s voice interrupted them, reedy and desperate, “Jones, Anna Jones, Anna Jones is Kira!”


	19. Chapter 19

_“It’s almost relieving, in a way, to know what your limits are. Not quite as inspirational as books or movies make it appear, but when you endure, when you survive, and when you get out of it you can look in the mirror and tell yourself that you made it through it. You now know that you can do it again, if you have to. The only troubling, lingering, thought is that you now know that you might have to.”_

* * *

(Sometimes, in the distance, she could swear she could hear the typing of keys.)

She was damned the moment Misa Amane opened her mouth, no, earlier, she was damned the moment L had looked at her and decided that Anna Jones was Kira. No, earlier, earlier…

She’d come up with some pretty odd hobbies in prison. Blindfolded, strapped to a board, she leaned against her restraints and spent hours upon hours drifting in and out of consciousness thinking of everything and anything that’d keep her occupied.

At some point she’d given up on staying sane.

Either way, when Misa had said those words, everyone had frozen and their eyes had turned to her. L, the bastard, had smiled across at her and Light… She hadn’t gotten a chance to look at Light.

It’d been a little quick on the draw, now that she thought about it, there hadn’t been much time to give Anna Jones the benefit of the doubt. Then again, words from Misa Amane, someone Anna Jones had no reason to have an association with, were somewhat alarming and damning. Occam’s razor, for L and the task force, would say that it was simplest to take Misa at her word.

This might be the only situation where the simplest solution was not in fact the correct one.

What was it, fifty days in canon? That was a little under two months, not very long really, people had lived in prison for years. People had survived death camps for years, certainly months, and true not everyone did manage to make it through but some did. Some did, she had to hold onto the thought that she was in that some.

But it was hard to count time, the only real constant was the sound of Watari’s footsteps and that needle he’d stick in her arm and L’s asking, “Do you confess to being Kira?”

Her fifty day limit was also not necessarily realistic. That was in a world where Misa had erased her memories rather than confess, because it was Light’s life in the balance, in this world she’d had Anna Jones to pin it on. But the truth was that Anna Jones wasn’t Kira, so it wouldn’t hold, no matter what Misa wanted to believe.

L would shove her back into that cell, Misa would get desperate, Misa would give up the notebook…

But that just left things in Light’s hands, didn’t it?  Light’s hands…

Why was she doing this to herself?

Watari was in again, Watari never really talked, only L’s robotic voice actually spoke to her. Watari was there to keep her alive, at least, that’s what she thought. Who could really say? He was sticking some sort of a needle in her arm at regular intervals and she wasn’t dead yet so she assumed he was keeping her alive. He could also be pumping her full of drugs, everything was always sort of hazy for a while, but either way she was still alive and she knew she’d been here long enough for her to die of dehydration.

She didn’t think long enough for starvation, but again, it was getting difficult to tell.

L was asking if she was Kira, she was ignoring it, instead asking the same question she always asked herself at this time of the day.

Why was she doing this to herself?

The solution was easy, simple, betray Light.

Pull a Misa and tell L very plainly that Light was actually Kira and that she’d just unwillingly helped him, more or less, had tried to steer him in a less abominable direction for what that was worth.

After all, what did she owe Light Yagami? He’d threatened to kill her, more than once, and he was a murderer. Not even a simple kill your wife sort of murderer, but a serial killer the scale of which the world had never seen before. The world would be a less dangerous, better, place without him in it.

She hadn’t yet, for a few reasons.

The first, the one that’d struck her at first, was that L was unlikely to believe her. And even if he did believe her, would he really let her go just like that? She doubted Misa was on parole at the moment so it was hard to think her own fate would be any different. No, she had the feeling that being Kira’s accomplice would still put her in a place like this. At this point she was hard pressed to believe that L could even comprehend compassion or mercy. But this involved a lot of thinking, mental gymnastics and chess games, and in the spur of the moment it was hard to rationalize on that sort of level.

When there was a goddamn needle sticking into your arm you usually didn’t think about what L would do fifty moves into the game.

The easiest one, the one she clung to, the one that kept her going every single time they did this song and dance was that she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Light had never tortured her, not like L was doing, and in that she’d learned in his own way L was worse than Kira. She would not be the weak link that let L win, he would have to break her, before he ever got a name from her.

It was a game, confessing meant losing, turning in Light meant losing, and she couldn’t afford to lose.

The other reasons were harder to grasp, ones she couldn’t even understand herself, not without hours of thought after wondering if she was going blind (if you didn’t use your eyes for weeks did you go blind? Was that possible?)

Light, he was evil, yes, but it was hard to think about him like that. She couldn’t focus long on those Kira moments, because they were too much like facts, too easy to accept. Blind folded, strung against a board, you needed thoughts to take a long time because all you had was time to waste.

(What she wouldn’t give for a Charles Dickens novel to eat up every minute of every day. God did those things waste time in tangents, she could really use some of that. Long, winding tangents about useless things like the battle of Waterloo that nobody cared about; the very idea of them was starting to seem appealing.)

Light is Kira, two seconds worth of thinking, Light is dangerous, maybe five if she stretched it. These were things she knew, but they weren’t interesting, she couldn’t spend long thinking about them, it just became redundant.

She ended up thinking about the other times instead, later, when they’d been… friends…

Friendship, with Light, that was complicated. That lingered longer, trying to figure out what he meant to her, what she meant to him, what he would do now, playing the chess game for him over and over again.

It was worth thinking about.

More, it was worth… preserving. Or at least, that was always the conclusion she managed to reach by the time Watari rolled in again.

So she held onto that, when she was clear enough in the head to think that much about anything, and the rest of the time it was whatever wandered into her head or else just thinking about how sore and tired she was.

Sore and tired and blind.

That’s what life was now.

* * *

“Jones, Anna Jones, Anna Jones is Kira!”

She’d frozen, shocked, everything had slowed down. Then he’d smiled, smiled at her, like someone had just given him a goddamn cookie.

And then she’d been handcuffed.

And then…

“You doing alright, kid?”

Ryuk’s voice rang out in the darkness, funny, it wasn’t one she’d imagined yet. Well, not a question like that. The idea of Ryuk visiting her wasn’t pleasant, after all. Not that she didn’t like Ryuk, it was just, well moments like these and she really remembered that he was a god of death. You didn’t want gods of death visiting you in torture prison.

Her head moved towards the sound, her lips pursued into a bitter line, but then she thought about it and decided that it couldn’t hurt her any more if L thought she was hallucinating. She probably already had hallucinated at some point, there were some pretty fuzzy patches in her recollection, so playing up the crazy couldn’t hurt. That wasn’t telling him Light was Kira, that wasn’t losing, so being crazy should be fine.

“How do I look like I’m doing?” She asked and was met by the sound of a god of death cackling.

“Pretty peachy, you really do get yourself into some messed up situations don’t you?”

She didn’t respond to that, it was true, but just because it was true didn’t mean it meant anything while she was rotting in here.

“Miss Jones, do you wish to confess to being Kira?” L’s voice cut in on cue, she hadn’t talked out of turn yet and this was a sign of hope for him, she ignored it.

“How long have I been in here?”

L didn’t respond, he never did to these sorts of questions, instead Ryuk did, “Couple of weeks or so, I wasn’t keeping track.”

“Well, isn’t that great?” Anna could see why Light was so pissed at Ryuk all the time, what good was he if he couldn’t even tell her how long she’d been blindfolded in prison.

And again with the mad cackling, well, at least Ryuk was getting his kicks. She could hear L’s weighted silence, somewhere behind that camera lens she knew was pointed at her, just waiting for something.

She grinned, for a few moments, hoping her smile reached the camera while Ryuk continued his hysterics. Just keep laughing, Ryuk, just keep laughing.

“Is Misa still in prison?” She asked, that was the main thing that had been weighing on her, because if Misa was out then shit was bad. Then she had to recalculate, think of all of those possibilities she’d cut off in her head because they were too horrifying to contemplate. Because if Misa wasn’t in prison…

Well, L might die for one thing. Misa had the eyes, Light just had to arrange a convenient meeting at the university. Hell, that might actually get Anna out of prison, because surely Light would at least rationally argue that it was ridiculous to imprison an American exchange student simply because Amane Misa had said her name.

Of course, it involved L dying, which lead to Light’s scary cult in five or six years and was generally bad. Considering she’d spent so much time preventing L’s death, preventing Kira’s victory, she felt that this turn of events should be horrifying rather than… relieving.

“Yep, yep, she looks a bit like you, same whole set up with the blindfold and the straight jacket.”

Anna sighed, whether in disappointment or relief she couldn’t quite tell. She didn’t want Kira to win, Kira winning wasn’t good, was 1984 level of bad but at the same time… At the same time it was hard to think about all of this objectively. L was… She had many feelings surrounding him, even when she could barely think straight.

“How’s Light?”

“Light, eh, well… Funny story about that.” Ryuk started almost sounding chagrined of all things, “He’s given up the notebook.”

The smile dropped from her face abruptly, “Why?”

It could happen, it’d happened in canon, but why? She was in here taking the heat for Light, Misa hadn’t given up the notebook, things weren’t drastic yet that Light needed to… Why would he go so far?

“He didn’t exactly go into details, there was some master plan involved, I’m sure it will be very entertaining.” Ryuk said, as if to reassure himself, God forbid Ryuk wasn’t entertained.

But why would he do it? Losing his memories, risking them not returning, why go through that whole mess again? Was it to drive L into a corner?

Light wanted to kill L and for that he needed L’s name. Misa could have done it, but she was now rotting away in a cell without a notebook. Anna could have done it, but she was also locked away. Light would never take the eyes for himself because it would halve his own lifespan.

So Light was blocked, he had to make some kind of a move, but why that move of all moves?

Why would he do that?

Because now, now if she broke, now if she turned him in then it wasn’t Kira she was killing. This was a Light she didn’t know, one that was innocent, a good person who could somehow become a great person if given half a chance. This Light didn’t deserve to die.

“Goddamn that son of a bitch!”

“Miss Jones?” L asked, over the intercom, and she grit her teeth to stop herself from giving any retort.

“Hyuk, that’s what I love about you. Even tied up and blind folded you’re still decent entertainment.” Ryuk said and then sighed, his wings ruffling, “Too bad I can’t really stay, I’ll have to take a seat in the nosebleed section. And I heard the damn hole’s getting crowded too, what with all the gambling. Oh well, just thought I’d check in before I left. Sit tight, won’t you?”

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon.” She muttered, but she wasn’t sure if Ryuk had heard, because she didn’t hear any laughter and the sounds he’d made were already gone. And there she was, alone in the dark once again, only this time with a memoryless Light to haunt her thoughts.

A Light she couldn’t get away with killing.

“That son of a bitch.”

* * *

“Sometimes I really hate you.” She was dreaming again, because she could see, she was still in the cell but she wasn’t attached to the board. Instead she was sitting up, unchained, staring straight ahead at the bars.

To her left was Light Yagami, he appeared in her dreams a lot. He didn’t at first, at first it was usually L or Watari, but lately Light had taken a more or less starring role. She wondered what that was supposed to say about her.

“Well, that’s not so different from usual, is it?” He asked, giving her that awful charming smile.

“No, I guess it isn’t.” She admitted, and it wasn’t, she just sometimes felt like it was.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“That’s not like you.” She noted, and he blinked at the statement, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. He should, Light had always been self-aware.

“Gratitude,” she clarified, “It’s not like you.”

“I’m capable of being gracious, Anna.” He said with a smile, and he moved next to her, on the cot and took her hands in his. Somehow, even in a dream they were warm. Was she really that desperate for human contact?

“I expected you to betray me from the beginning. You didn’t.” He squeezed her hands, looking deep into her eyes with his own, how was it that she remembered his eyes so well?

“I didn’t.” She agreed, she didn’t add that she didn’t do it for him. She didn’t know what she was doing it for, it wasn’t entirely for him, but some small part of it must have been.

“Allow me my gratitude.” He responded with that crooked smile, halfway to a smirk but not quite there, the one that looked almost human. He had so many smiles, most of them were horrifying to witness.

They sat in silence, him holding her hands, outside a bird called and she craned her head to see the blue sky outside the bars. God, how long had it been since she’d seen the sky? The sakura wouldn’t be blooming, by the time she left.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.” She whispered, feeling the weight of time on her shoulders.

“As long as you need to.”

“I can’t keep doing this.” She shook her head, back and forth, back and forth, “I’m so tired, Light. I’m so tired.”

“You can, it’s not forever, not much longer. You can keep going.”

She shuddered, nodding, wondering if she really could make it that long. It was easier, knowing that one day she’d get out, one day soon, but it was still so hard.

“God, and you just had to give me a real reason not to.” She looked him in the eye, watching as his expression darkened, because it had been very clever, “Because the you out there, the you that’s not Kira, doesn’t deserve this. I’m not sure anyone deserves this.”

“Even Misa?”

“Even that bitch Misa Amane.” Although her lips quirked at the thought, because Misa was not in her good books these days, in the Death Note that was her heart the name Amane Misa was written in cold black ink.

Gratitude from her own subconscious, there was some ridiculous symbolism in there, but she didn’t have the patience to look for that sort of thing. Dream Light faded from view and opening her eyes Anna found herself staring into the infinite blackness once again.

* * *

And then one day it ended.

The blind fold was taken off, the restraints removed, she stumbled in blurry hell feeling weak at the knees wondering what the hell is even going on and if she could walk after being strapped up so long. How long did it take for muscles to atrophy? She tried to think about it, but she couldn’t quite remember, had never bothered to look up the exact time and now she wished she had because she felt terribly week.

She was shoved forward, probably by Watari but she can’t tell because she was still blinking and everything was so bright, and then she was walking down a long hallway. As she walked she realized that this place was a sort of dull gray, very much like a prison, but all the other cells were empty. A prisoner with her very own prison, all to herself, like something out of an absurdist novel.

When they reached the end of the hall she heard a door opening, she was pushed through, and then shoved forward again and strapped onto a table with her head aimed towards the white ceiling.

Her heart was beating too fast in her chest, faster than it had in a very long time, and a dull feeling of panic was seeping through her.

This was new, this was different, she couldn’t remember this from canon.

“Anna,” Light’s voice, that was Light’s voice, she rolled her eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of him but couldn’t. She heard footsteps and suddenly he was standing over her with a pained, grim, smile.

And then she knew exactly what this was about. She didn’t know how this was happening, how Light had managed to turn it into this, but he was going to kill her. She was a liability, her memories couldn’t be erased, and he was going to shut her up before she finally broke and told L.

Unless, no, Light didn’t have memories. Ryuk had said that, unless Ryuk had lied, but he wouldn’t lie about something like that. Plus Ryuk wouldn’t have been quiet through this, he’d be howling with laughter.

“Why did you do it?” He asked, and she had to think about it, because she really had no idea what he was talking about.

“Do what?”

“Kira, Anna!” He looked, it was hard to tell, everything was still so blurry, but he looked as if he was on the verge of tears. Light, crying, how… It just wasn’t processing, “How could you kill all of those people?”

And then she laughed, howled like it was the best joke she’d heard in years, and god did it hurt her throat but she couldn’t help it, “Oh, God, Light that’s really funny. I’m not Kira.”

Light accusing her of being Kira, that was rich, too rich, he’d feel insulted if he knew what he was doing.

Light scowled, his expression turning almost dangerous, “L found the evidence, Anna, there’s no use denying it. We know you’re Kira!”

She wished she could shake her head pityingly, it was unfortunately strapped to a table, so all could do was offer him a half smile, “He couldn’t, there isn’t any, because I’m not Kira.”

Light said nothing for a moment, just stared down at her, and then said, “They’re going to execute you, Anna. That’s why you’re here, they were going to do it without you seeing anyone but… But even if you are Kira, no especially because you are Kira, I needed to be here. I needed to see it for myself.”

They’re going to execute you. She hadn’t heard Watari in the room, Light was the only one here, she was strapped to a table. Light was going to execute her.

It was just like Soichiro in that car, Light’s fake execution, only… What if hers wasn’t fake? But then she felt a cold sort of calm descending on her, because they could kill her, this was true. Light could kill her, L could kill her, but they could never make her Kira.

If L, Light, anyone killed her now it didn’t mean that they had won. In fact, it would cement her victory, because it would prove that they had been wrong. They had killed a young American woman, without trial, tortured her for weeks on end without warrant, and if anyone found out…

It would be the end for them.

So her smile returned and she simply said, “I’m not Kira, Light, I never will be, even if they kill me. But I want some last words.”

“Aren’t these your last words, monster?” He spat out, his face a contorted mix of grief rage and disbelief, something heartbreaking that she’d never seen him put on before.

“History,” She said calmly, tasting the word, the syllables, “Will avenge me.”

Delicately she felt a needle placed into her arm once again, she closed her eyes, squeezing them shut, her heart a desperate erratic drum, and just waited for what might be the very last moment of her life.

She wanted to go home.


	20. Chapter 20

_“People change, it’s hard to go back to what you were, I don’t know if it’s possible or even worth trying to be honest. I can’t remember what that person was like anymore.”_

* * *

“Oh, I’m still alive, imagine that.”

She didn’t open her eyes as she said it, didn’t move her head which was still strapped to the table, she simply stayed where she was, completely and utterly still except for her quiet breathing, looking on the edge of death.

It had been two months since he’d seen her in person, it felt as it had been years. She’d looked so different, so healthy, when they’d first arrested her. She’d been terrified then, he remembered the look in her eyes, as if she was saying to herself, “Oh God, this is it, this is the end.”

He knew that expression, he’d seen it before, he didn’t know how or why but he’d seen that look in her eyes. Only, only then she’d always had some miracle, some clever way out that would save her and him for that matter. And he’d kept waiting for it, waiting for Anna Jones’ stroke of miraculous brilliance, but it didn’t come.

It didn’t come that time.

L had pressed her face into the table, so that she was forced to look into the screen as he cuffed her hands, and everyone else simply watched as he declared her to be their first Kira on evidence presented to them by the second Kira. It’d been over so quickly, Light hadn’t had time to think, time to do anything, and he’d hesitated as he’d watched his father, his father’s coworkers, wheel her away with that horrified expression on her face.

He’d hesitated and then for the next two months he’d had to watch her being tortured over video screens all while he desperately searched for the real Kira who was still out there or else a way to prove that Misa was the only Kira.

Because he knew Anna wasn’t.

He didn’t know how he was so certain. As certain as L was, or as certain as he made it appear that he was, Light knew that it just wasn’t true. Not only was it not true, it would never be true, Anna would never be Kira. It wasn’t that she lacked the ruthlessness, the drive, she was too much of a philosopher. Always thinking about religion, morality, and what it meant to be a god. Anna could never fashion herself into something as crude as Kira. But that wasn’t the sort of evidence L wanted, even when Light had explained this, about why psychologically she just wasn’t Kira.

No matter what L believed circumstances were on her side. Anna was barely out of high school, she was a foreigner who could barely read, there was no reason that she should be Kira even if Misa said her name. The idea of Anna being Kira… was strangely funny to him, in a grotesque terrible manner.

But every time L said it, every time L insisted, he wanted to break out into hysterical laughter.

And God, wasn’t that terrible of him. Anna, his only real friend, his only… was in prison, was close to dying, and inside his head it was all some great joke.

Light moved over to her, removed all of the bindings, helped her into a sitting position. She started blinking, her eyelids fluttering constantly as she tried to adjust to the light, it was taking her far too long. He wondered if she could see anything, she looked so dazed, like her pale blue eyes could barely make him out.

He wanted to say something to her but anything he might have said faltered at the look she gave him. It was resigned, worn, a little amused, but also strangely triumphant as if Anna Jones had just won some grand and elaborate prize whose nature Light could not even begin to comprehend.

“Well, Ryuzaki, does she pass?” Light asked instead, staring at the camera in the corner of the room. Anna didn’t even bother to look up at it.

L was silent for a few moments, too long, and then his robotic voice answered in a strangely defeated tone, “I suppose she does.”

“Fuck you too, asshole.” Anna’s eye finally met the camera but that triumphant expression still hadn’t completely disappeared, it had retreated into the corners of her eyes, but it was still very much there.

“Now, now, Anna Jones, that’s not very polite language.” L said before adding, “I take it you’re aware of what just happened, yes?”

“Well, I may have been blindfolded, starved, drugged, and hung against a post for two months but I like to think I can still put two and two together.” Anna drawled, a lazy sort of smile appearing on her face. Light’s grip tightened against her, pulling her in, as if to remind her of where she was and who exactly she was talking to.

This was not the time for her bravado, her stupid American jokes, this was the time for the Anna Jones who didn’t show her face in public; the one who was cautious, wary, and oh so very careful. She knew exactly what was happening, she should know the kind of danger she was in, now wasn’t the time to go aggravating him!

(Again, he couldn’t quite remember how he knew this about her, that there was an Anna underneath the Anna she showed but he remembered this. He remembered her, and while it bothered him that the circumstances were hazy, for now he had to cling to what he knew. Later, later when she was cleared of charges, then he could wonder why he was having these issues with his memory.)

“So then, you are aware that this was a test?” L asked before adding, “I realize you weren’t aware at the time, one can’t fake that sort of reaction, but I must say it’s sort of anticlimactic not having to explain it to you.”

“Sorry to continually disappoint.” She said, and then they were done, Light supporting her as they headed back to L’s new headquarters that he’d had built during Anna and Misa’s incarceration.

She was completely silent on the way there, staring ahead at nothing was a glazed and resolute expression, and the sight of it terrified him because he’d never seen her look like that; like she was already dead. He tried to fill this silence by explaining what had happened, that L had built new headquarters, that she and Misa Amane were still both prime suspects, that L had tested Anna as well as Misa in two separate life or death situations where they would have had no choice but to use their powers if they could, and that both were now being taken to his headquarters.

It had struck him at the time and it was striking him now that this… This wasn’t legal. L was taking very risky moves for something he should not be so certain about. Misa was probably Kira, Light wouldn’t exactly be surprised, but Anna wasn’t and if anyone found out…

If anyone found out what had been done to her he couldn’t imagine the consequences for L, for his father…

These were the sort of things that Kira killed people over.

She hadn’t looked surprised, angered, horrified, there hadn’t been any sort of emotion in her only that cold determination that burned slowly in her eyes.

“We’ll find him, Anna.” He said finally, “We’ll find Kira, the real Kira, and make that bastard pay for everything that’s happened to you. I promise.”

Then she turned and just gave him this look. She was looking at him as if he was the biggest dumbass she had ever met. Then this transformed, she started to grin, and then she laughed. Laughed so hard that it caused her to cough and rub at her throat and unused vocal chords.

“Oh, Light, you funny funny man.” She said as she calmed down, “I think that made my day.”

He felt his cheeks flush whether out of embarrassment or anger was unclear only that he felt rage the likes of which, well he knew this feeling he’d felt it before, but he couldn’t even recall when, “Anna, you are not Kira! That bastard is still out there and the longer we go without finding him the longer you can be stuck here! Don’t you understand that?!”

“I understand perfectly well, Light.” Unspoken, on the end of her question, was the question, do you?

And he didn’t, because once they found the real Kira Anna wouldn’t have to do this anymore. She could go home, she could return to university, she and Light could become real people again without detectives or models hovering over their shoulders incessantly. Didn’t she want that? Didn’t she believe that was really possible?

She looked so thin, she’d always been a bit tall and lean for a woman, but she had looked…

And she raised her eyebrows, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, and was saying silently the equivalent of her, “No shit, Sherlock.”

He always hated it when she said that but for whatever reason, the sight of her expression caused the corners of his lips to twitch upwards, and the look just intensified. If she could look at him like that, after what had happened, then she was going to be alright.

They would find Kira and everything would be fine.

* * *

The good news was that she wasn’t blind and she could walk.

The bad news was that everything was blurry and almost too bright to see and it seemed her brain had assumed vision was turned off, and it would probably be a while until it worked properly, and that she’d lost a lot of stamina while in prison and walking upstairs was exhausting.

However, it was a new day, she apparently hadn’t been assassinated by Light Yagami or else L and she could sort of walk.

She’d decided to take her small victories where she could get them.

Of course, this left the nauseating question of, what now?

She’d avoided thinking about that in prison, mostly because it’d been way too far ahead, at the time she’d been too focused on not going crazy and then not getting too bored and then not letting that bastard L win. She didn’t really have the energy or time to think about the Yotsuba arc, which at that point wasn’t even that likely to happen, she still couldn’t believe it was happening.

(Not that she could assume it was happening. She just knew Light had lost his memories and that there was some sort of master plan. That didn’t necessarily scream Yotsuba arc but then it’d been a good plan the first time so Light might do it again.)

Light without memories was… An actual human being. He was a whole rollercoaster of emotional highs and lows, corresponding to her own emotional highs and lows, and he actually looked fairly traumatized from everything that had happened. He looked like he, well she hesitated over the word because it was Light but it strangely fit, cared.

Light looked like he cared, cared a lot, over her physical and mental wellbeing. He looked profoundly upset that she had been put through this, that he’d had to pretend to execute her to keep L happy, and that now they had to find the real Kira so that she could be free.

It was very bizarre.

She really didn’t know how she felt about it. Any other person and she’d no doubt be touched, because someone cared, someone was on the side of Anna Jones unconditionally. Someone knew she wasn’t Kira, knew she had done her best, and was in turn doing their best to see that she made it through it. Even with Light, this memoryless Light, she did feel something warm and tender at the thought that he cared that much. But there was the other part of her that just found the whole situation so surreal.

A small part of her also wondered if she was just having the most realistic hallucination to date featuring a Light Yagami who wasn’t a psychopathic asshole.

He was always touching her, holding her hand to walk her somewhere, supporting her when it became clear that she really couldn’t walk that far on her own, pulling her in to lean against him as they sat in the car.

If anyone had told her, two months ago, that she and Light Yagami would be holding hands and leaning against each other she would either die of laughter or sheer terror at the idea of it. Light Yagami was many things but he was certainly not clingy or touchy in any way.

But apparently that was the world she now had been released back into, well, on a trial basis apparently.

Because there they were, at the task force headquarters, which looked about ten years more advanced technology wise than anything else in Tokyo. And once again she was staring across at the task force feeling surreally like they were somehow redoing that first disastrous meeting that had landed her ass in prison.

Only Light was a little more unreasonably pissed this time, if his expression was anything to go by.

“I hope you’re satisfied, Ryuzaki!” Light hissed out, but it was strangely less menacing than he could be. There was too much feeling in it, too much passion, Light was at his most terrifying when he was cold. There was fire in his eyes.

“Well, I wouldn’t say satisfied…” L trailed off  his eyes settling on hers for far too long. Now his eyes, they hadn’t changed at all, there was still that intensity in them except this time she met them without looking away. They were far past the point of social awkwardness.

They probably would have kept staring into each other's eyes in the way that only star struck lovers or eternal rivals can manage if Misa Amane hadn’t been there as well.

“Light! Misa was hoping she would see you again!” Misa, how was it that after two months she looked so good, Light had more or less confirmed that Anna looked like shit but Misa looked pretty good considering. Her hair was a bit messier than usual, she was a bit more pale, but she didn’t look like complete shit. For an odd moment she felt a pang of jealousy, because why was it that Misa got to look good after prison while Anna felt tired, sore, half blind, and like she’d just been put through a meat grinder?

Misa’s smile was beautiful and she looked as if everything was right in the world now that Light had been delivered back to her.

Light, however, looked a little ill and plainly horrified. He took a step back, pulling Anna back with him and into his chest. At the movement Misa at first looked confused then her features morphed into something far more terrifying to Anna, jealousy.

“Light, how dare you cling to some other woman when your girlfriend needs you?! Why are you always so mean to Misa?!”

It was almost insulting, that the woman who had pretty much sent Anna to her death, was over there pouting because her boyfriend wasn’t paying enough attention to her.

“Girlfriend?! You aren’t my girlfriend you crazy stalker!” Light cried out, looking comically offended by the idea of Misa of all people being his girlfriend.

Amnesia via Death Note apparently did some interesting things to people, made you very selective with your memories.

“Stalker?! You said you loved me!”

“You threatened to kill any woman who stepped near me! You threatened Anna several times! You framed her for being Kira!”

It was like a really terrible soap opera confrontation. Two amnesiac murderers meet in the middle of their investigation and have very different impressions of what exactly went on in their past. There were tears, there was horror, there was confusion in abundance. All they needed was the kidnapped baby and it would be a hit for day time television.

“My, my, let me see if I’ve gotten this straight.”

At the sound of L’s voice Anna Jones stiffened and turned her attention to him, he was hunched forward, nibbling on his thumb but all of his focus was on the three of them. Anna felt something cold and dark drop within her stomach and a numbness take over because she knew this expression and she knew the places it led.

She had never been terrified of L before, she had been vaguely afraid yes, but now at the sight of that expression she remembered…

Too much, too many things she didn’t want or need to think about.

“Amane Misa, you claim that you and Light have been dating since…” L trailed off expectantly waiting for her to answer.

“Early spring, which Misa thinks is just so romantic! Love is best for springtime when the sakura is blooming!” Misa finished, still looking put out that Light wasn’t getting anywhere near her and had dragged Anna off with him a fair distance.

“That’s not true at…” Light started but L held up his hand to interrupt.

“And you, Light, claim that this woman has been stalking you and giving death threats to your friend Anna Jones.”

Light nodded vigorously while Misa’s face turned an interesting shade of irritated purple.

“Well, those are certainly two conflicting stories.” L mused and then his eyes settled back onto hers, “But I wonder, there’s one point of view we haven’t heard yet, isn’t there Anna?”

Anna felt her face pale. Well, yes, he just came out and said it didn’t he? Abruptly, Anna remembered how obnoxious L could be in person, and how she had hated him for that rather than throwing her in prison because Misa said her name.

Anna was technically the only person who remembered exactly what had happened and why. Of course, she wasn’t about to blurt out that it was a little bit of both. In that Misa had threatened Anna’s life as well as a slew of others in order to secure Light as her boyfriend.

However, there were a number of reasons she wasn’t going to say that. Not that she knew what she was going to say instead. On the one hand, while she hated Misa, Misa was still fairly terrifying and she wasn’t about to piss her off by claiming Light wasn’t actually her boyfriend. On the other hand, she also didn’t want to piss off Light because in many ways Light was actually more terrifying than Misa when he wanted to be. And there was also the fact that she had genuinely no idea what to say to this.

“…Uh…” She started, her eyes flicking to a vaguely irritated Light and an increasingly angry Misa.

Light without memories wasn’t nearly as terrifying as he used to be, so she decided she’d be better off placating Misa.

“Misa is totally Light’s girlfriend… They date all the time, and love each other…”

L’s eyebrow raised, Misa beamed, and Light looked like a normal person on the verge of killing her rather than Kira on the verge of killing her. In normal circumstances it might be terrifying, but after living with Kira for months it just didn’t compare.

“Anna, how could I be dating Misa when you and I have been dating since November?!”

And her brain shut down.

“What?” She asked, more rhetorically than anything else, because what even.

“We’ve been dating since November, don’t you remember?”

What?

“Oh, so you two were more than just friends, Anna you dirty liar.” L said, looking like he’d just been handed a slice of cheesecake. No, no he didn’t, because while there was that stupid smile on his face his eyes were also as cold and sharp as steel.

Somewhere Ryuk was laughing.

And at that thought, before L could conclude something about how being Kira played hell with your memories or throw her back into prison or handcuff her to himself or lock her on her own floor, Anna’s body gave up on the painful ridiculousness that was her life and she vomited on the floor, right in front of L’s bare feet.

Yes, Ryuk really was laughing somewhere.


	21. Chapter 21

_“Have you noticed that I only ever say depressing things in these? Where did the fun me go, the one who said things that were… less depressing? I think I’ll start now. Fun fact: Misa Amane, without the death note given to her by a god, is still bat shit insane and would probably kill any woman who stepped close to Light Yagami by shoving their face into a blender and then pressing the on button. Goddammit.”_

* * *

It was somewhere between midnight and three a.m. and Light still hadn’t gone home yet. This was becoming something of a routine, he was beginning to feel like he was the one imprisoned in this god forsaken building, because although he could technically leave at any time he always found himself working much later than any other task member besides L himself.

Although, it was difficult to tell whether or not L was truly working on anything.

L spent most of his time perching on his computer chair like some demented oversized bird, eating cheesecake, occasionally flicking through articles and reports, but mostly just staring straight ahead at nothing or worse at the giant screen that usually would display Misa Amane or else Anna Jones in their natural habitat.

Their natural habitat being the entire 20th floor of the building where they could pretend they were living in a hotel. (And God, would Anna hate that, Anna did hate that, he hadn’t spoken to her in some time but just looking at her he knew she was seething at the very farce of it. A gilded bird cage, that’s all it was.)

Misa appeared to be adjusting rather well, all things considered, this was probably because she was completely deranged to begin with. She spent her time painting her toenails, watching television, occasionally whining to the cameras that she’d like to see Light for a weekly date, but otherwise looking like she was just lounging in her own apartment.

Anna wasn’t doing nearly as well, but then, Light could hardly blame her. She spent most of her time doing various exercises, jump roping, doing pushups, athletic activities she’d once avoided at all costs. She also spent an unnatural amount of time simply staring at the camera, not asking anything, just staring through it as if she could see through that black lens into your very soul.

(She didn’t believe him, she didn’t believe he could prove her innocent, or worse that for whatever reason he would choose not to. She didn’t believe him, and God did that hurt.)

They needed to get out of this place.

He rubbed a hand through his hair, breathing out, the only trouble was that he had no idea where to look. A normal nine to five schedule, possibly (Kira could alter the time of deaths and he’d appeared as a student before so who was to say this new schedule was accurate), living in the Kanto region, kills via heart attacks but needs a name and a face…

There wasn’t much that was concrete.

But he couldn’t concentrate, not when he was working this late, on this little sleep, and not with that damned tapping pen in L’s fingers.

“Would you please stop that.”

The tapping paused, hesitated, before starting up again with the same rhythm as before a tap-tap-tappity-tap that had been incessant for the last thirty minutes.

Light grit his teeth, telling himself that this was one of the most brilliant men in the world, that he had once respected and admired this man. Hell, Light had once wanted to be this man, the great L who had never failed to solve a case.

That man wasn’t gone, even if he had turned out to be an inconsiderate socially inept ass for whom proof was an afterthought and guilt was decided by hunches and made up statistics. That brilliant man must still be in there somewhere; Light would believe that.

“Would you please stop that, Ryuzaki!” Light said, turning from his work completely to stare L in the face and this time L did pause, the pen hovering midair just above the counter for another tap.

“Hm, my apologies Light, I am…” Here L trailed off, looking at the large monitor again, although it was dark, Anna and Misa both having long since gone to sleep and the lights having turned off. Of course, that probably meant Watari was monitoring them with the infrared cameras from another room, “Discouraged.”  

“Not distracted?” Light said, crossing his arms to which L smirked, or L’s version of a smirk which was little more than a quirk of the lips.

“Discouraged. Of course, I would be outright depressed if I only had you and Misa Amane to work with.” L mused his expression suddenly turning glum, “At the very least I am not completely in square one regarding Kira.”

“What are you talking about?” Light asked, his eyes narrowing, and he noted that this was the first time that L was bringing this up. Bringing up him, Misa, and Anna all together as if they had one thing all in common.

L didn’t answer, simply stared at Light for a moment, looking at him with those great dark eyes as if he was staring straight through to Light’s very soul. Finally, he said in a casual nonchalant sort of tone, “Strange, isn’t it? That she is the one who never breaks character when she has the most reason to. You, Misa Amane, all great changes in personality without any explanation but her… Always the same.”

“What do you mean?” He asked and L continued to study him for a moment, spinning the pen in his fingertips.

“Are we being frank with each other, Light Yagami?” L asked, his lips doing that infuriating quirking thing again.

“Are we ever not frank with each other, Ryuzaki?” Light asked leaning forward and feeling all of his exhaustion drip away as he engaged in this strange and ominous conversation. This was the sort of conversation he knew, almost instinctively, would never be taking place if his father was in the room.

“Of course, for my own part I’m rarely frank with anyone. It takes away from the mystery, the prowess of the great anonymous detective, to be bluntly honest with my audience. As for you, well, sometimes I wonder if you’ve ever said an honest thing in your life.” L said that in a way as if he wasn’t expecting a response, as if this was just the way they were and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Like he knew Light, through and through, and thought he was just as awful as he himself was.

“Let’s be frank with each other, Light.” L continued, “Just this once, since I’m so very discouraged as of late.”

“Alright, Ryuzaki, let’s be frank.” Light said, using all the self-control he had not to spit the words out and add on a few more.

“Anna Jones, it’s a strange name isn’t it?” L asked, and with that name Light felt something plummet in his stomach. Because of course this was about Anna, because L might have let her out of imprisonment but that didn’t mean he believed she was innocent.

Except she was, Light knew it, and he didn’t see how L could possibly think that she was a murderer. Not only a murderer but Kira, who had killed thousands in only a few months.

“You would be hard pressed to pick a more boring, more common, and blander English name than Anna Jones.” L said and then paused, waiting for Light to jump to some conclusion, but Light didn’t jump for it.

“No, nothing?” L asked with raised eyebrows, cocking his head slightly and leaning forward in his perched position, “Alright, a bit about me first then. Tell me, Light, what is L?”

“A detective.” Light answered, too tired and too irritated to play along with this game of twenty questions.

“Wrong,” L said firmly his voice seeming to echo in the empty room, “L is more like a… corporation. There are successors.” At the word successors something cold drips into his voice but is soon enough covered by his bland explanation, “If Kira should kill me then I am more or less easily replaced. Actually, I just realized, in that we are quite similar. Kira’s doing the same thing after all.”

“That’s…” Light starts and trails off not entirely sure how to take this.

“Interesting, efficient, despicable?” L asked but again not giving Light enough time to make up his mind before moving on, “Tell me, Light, you’re very clever. Have you put it together yet?”

“Put what together?” Light asked, his eyes narrowing, practically feeling the threat emanating from this man because this was the game something in here was the trap that would damn him.

L looked at him somewhat dully and then, in the tone he used when inflecting upon a person’s guilt, began, “If you were to look for Anna Jones you would find a very impressive paper trail. She has a passport, high school transcripts, middle school transcripts, elementary school transcripts, letters of recommendation, certificates of participation in various events. If you start making phone calls, the first couple you make will reassure you of not only Anna Jones’ existence but her personality and hobbies. But if you make enough phone calls, if you look through enough papers, if you truly look for her, then you will find that Anna Jones never existed in the first place.”

L let the words hang in the air, waiting for Light to ask what he meant, but Light said nothing and would allow himself to say nothing though he dearly wanted to.

What had Anna said once, regarding L, that he enjoyed playing games with your head? This wasn’t about Anna Jones, Light knew that, no it all centered around one thing and one thing only.

Kira.

This was… Not a test, but something, some way in. Something to turn him against Anna Jones, make him suspect her so that he could finally break her. Or perhaps, perhaps it was for something else. But whatever it was it was about Kira and nothing else.

At three a.m. when he couldn’t think and think back to his own memories of her (because this didn’t sound wrong, he wasn’t surprised that Anna Jones might not be real, but it also didn’t bother him like he had always known that) he wasn’t going to let it distract him. Not from what was truly important.

“Ryuzaki, which of us do you really think is Kira?”

And L only smiled, “Ah, but Light, you aren’t ready for that answer quite yet.”

(Light, later, would not hold himself responsible for punching L in the face even if it did result in him getting kicked in the head.)

* * *

“What do you mean you can’t put me on a different floor?!”

It was funny, how your feelings about dying could change in such a short amount of time. At the time of her mock execution, she had more or less made her peace with God. She wasn’t entirely sure if she even preferred living because living was complicated, granted she knew what living was like but… But she also knew the consequences of her own death.

It would have been easy to die then.

She’d gotten used to the idea of living again, of waking up each morning and seeing a sunrise, of feeling sheets on your bare skin. And with it, her terror of dying had returned full force.

Which was how she had ended up in the bathroom with a telephone, glaring at the camera inside, while she listened to L hem-haw on the other end.

(And wasn’t that just how you knew your life was effectively over? When there were cameras inside of your bathroom, and not only could you not think of a convincing argument against it you also couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore.

Anna Jones no longer cared if L had video tapes of her naked in the shower.

That said so much about her life.)

“I’m afraid we just can’t accommodate you like that, Miss Jones. There simply aren’t enough floors.”

“Bullshit, Ryuzaki, that is bullshit!” She whispered harshly into the phone despite knowing that the door was locked (but then Misa was probably listening through the wood), “There are forty floors in this building, you can spare one!”

“Perhaps.” L mused.

“Perhaps?! Alright, I don’t need a floor, just a bedroom and a bathroom.” She said, sighing, clutching at her head and willing the sleep deprived headache away. 

“Well, that’s not all that different from a prison, is it?” L said to which she dearly wanted to respond that it was because she was in a goddamn prison. He was the only one who made any pretense at it being anything else.

“I don’t care.” She finally said, “I just need off this floor.”

L didn’t ask why, she guessed he knew when not to press it, because she knew that he was perfectly aware of why she needed out. Misa was trying to kill her.

Of course, this could be paranoia after being starved and drugged in prison but she doubted it. Those first few days, after Light’s great proclamation of being her boyfriend (which she still hadn’t gotten a chance to process or talk to him about because no, just no), Misa had taken to simply observing her and chatting to her.

And she had done her best to whole heartedly nod and agree with everything Misa was saying. That, yes, Light had jumped on board the crazy train and Misa was completely and utterly his only girlfriend.

“You’re like a man, Anna.” Misa said as they were painting toenails bright bubble-gum pink, “You wear sweat pants and don’t flirt not to mention you have no breasts. Light wants a woman.”

But Light didn’t come up for his date with Misa, worse, Light would make phone calls to Anna to tell her about his minimal progress on the case and how he would try to get Ryuzaki to let him see her soon.

And Misa didn’t like that.

Misa would invite herself over for slumber parties to watch her fall asleep with glittering brown eyes and then, one night, Misa had decided to start a pillow fight with her while she was asleep. Only, the pillow wasn’t thrown, instead it was carefully placed over Anna’s face so that Anna spluttered into awareness.

Only when she was sitting up, breathing heavily, did Misa actually throw the pillow.

So she decided to call it quits and finally man up and talk to L directly. Because she had been avoiding it, since that first day he’d told her he’d give her a floor with Misa to share, she had been avoiding it with all of her might.

And L was loving every minute of it.

“I’m sorry, but unless you choose to be an active member of society I simply can’t grant your request.” He said, as if he was an apologetic secretary who really was just waiting for his next lunch break.

“And how do I become an active member of society?” The words were like pulling teeth out of her head and watching them clatter to the floor.

She didn’t think she hated anything quite as much as she hated L. She would have thought Light would tie, but no, strangely enough no. Perhaps it was because this newer version of Light always looked so vulnerable and hardworking, striking her that this was a Light who actually was a good human being and who cared about those around him. It was hard to hate someone like that.

But no, even before being imprisoned, while she’d had her moments she had never truly hated Light. Not like the way she did L.

There was a long pause on the other end as L gathered his thoughts, although considering he’d been the one directing the conversation Anna had no idea what he would need the time for, and then he said, “I suppose I shall put it in the simplest manner possible. You help me catch Kira.”

For a moment she said nothing, just stared at the camera, her mouth hanging open and small chuckles escaping her without her consent.

“Ah, that’s funny, because if I’m remembering right the last time I said yes to this little arrangement you threw me into solitary confinement and strung me up against a board for two months.”

“I believe the phrase is ‘been there, done that’. And besides, it’s the only reason you could possibly need to change your current living arrangements.”

She took in a deep breath, knowing that he probably wasn’t lying about this, after all he hadn’t done it in canon. He’d even let Misa have her acting career back at some point. Of course, too many people would notice she was missing otherwise and they couldn’t have that. Still, point being, he probably wasn’t going to do round two in the dungeon since it didn’t work the first time.

She still had no qualifications to work on the case but if L didn’t care about that then apparently she didn’t either.

“Alright, yes, I will help you catch Kira.” Anything, at this point, to get away from Misa trying to smother her in her sleep.

“Excellent, however, there’s a few conditions.”

At the word conditions she felt something in her stomach drop and everything seemed to grow cold, “What conditions?”

“The problem is, Anna, that I don’t trust you.” L said before adding, “There’s still a relatively high chance that you are in fact Kira. Because of that I can’t offer you the same freedoms as other members of my taskforce, freedoms you will unfortunately need to be of any help on the case.”

She cut him off before he could get to the point, “If you suggest I handcuff myself to you I swear I will…”

“What an excellent idea, Anna!”

She dropped the phone, heard it clatter to the floor, and then fumbled to get it back up into her ear missing whatever else it was that L had to say. She knew it, she knew it, she had somehow turned into Light. Well, not Light as in killing people, but Light as in his role in life.

First, she’d taken his place as L’s creepy stalker victim then she’d gone on to take his place in prison and now… Handcuffs, the handcuffs, the one thing that everyone remembered from Death Note because of how goddamn ridiculous it was. The handcuffs.

Only, it wasn’t really so funny anymore. The idea of being that close to L, of being close enough to touch him, to feel his breath on her neck…

But Anna had always been fond of choosing lesser evils. And somehow, even though something burned inside her at the thought of him, of her being chained to him, the idea of being alone with Misa where she could be murdered in her sleep was worse.

Life was full of difficult decisions.

She had made many before, she had made it this far, she could do it again.

Even if she had to be handcuffed to L to do it she would make it out of this alive and after that… Well, she would have to wait and see.

“Fine. Fine, Ryuzaki, we’ll do this. Just get me off this goddamn floor.”


	22. Chapter 22

_“I actually like Matsuda, I mean, I did in canon but... He’s a really nice guy, really! I mean, memory-less Light is a weird saint, but Matsuda is a normal super nice guy and because of that L gives him unreasonable shit. Because that’s what L does, makes nice people’s lives miserable.”_

* * *

Anna leaned forward, pale blue eyes sharper than any dagger, and her voice just as cold, “No, Matsuda, this is where you tell Ryuzaki to get his own goddamn coffee like an actual human being instead of an oversized pigeon.”

Matsuda, nice but ultimately spineless, smiled weakly back at her and said, “No, I mean, it’s fine I can…”

This had been building for several days, ever since Anna Jones had made her return to the task force, handcuffed to L every hour of the day and watched with security cameras in the few moments that they weren’t attached to one another.

Tension, combined with the lack of results in the case, had been rising and now it appeared they’d reached the climax and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. Light suspected that it could have been anything, a comment from L, even a comment from Light’s father, but for whatever reason Matsuda’s status as coffee-boy seemed to be Anna’s breaking point.

“No, Matsuda, just because Ryuzaki is a dick of ridiculous proportions does not mean that you, the only person in this room who is not a complete asshole, has to get reduced to the gofer.” Anna waved a hand at Ryuzaki, sitting next to her, the chain of the handcuff jangling as she did so.

The handcuffs, it had been days, and the sight of it still… It was amazing how angry L could make him, push him past the bounds of what he thought he could feel, and then just keep going.

He thought the worst was watching her on camera, blindfolded, tortured, and the worst had been that moment where he was with her face to face delivering her execution and just watching as she lay there and accepted it.

And true, that was more heart wrenching than this was, but this… There was something about those handcuffs.

It wasn’t even the idea that she was handcuffed to another man, to L of all people, it was what it meant and what must be going through Anna’s head every time she caught sight of the chain or heard it clinking. Light tried to stay late, he’d spent the night in the building more than once now, practically moved in but there were still times in the dead of night where she was left alone with him, with L… She had to sleep chained to the man who had tortured her for over a month and was convinced beyond reason that she was a serial killer.

And aside from solving the Kira case there was nothing Light could do to stop it.

“I protest; I am a dick of perfectly reasonable proportions.” L commented drily, even as he continued to type on the computer, “I’m also adding two percentage points of likelihood to your being Kira for promoting inefficiency in the work place. Clearly, as the least productive member and most inexperienced member of the team, Matsuda is most suited to get the coffee.”

“First off, I believe that I am the least productive and most inexperienced member of the team.” Anna pointed out, turning her chair towards L and staring at him with a highly unamused look. “And second, you force Matsuda to be the least productive member by making him get the coffee every three hours. He can’t do anything because he’s always leaving the building!”

“My mistake, I’ve added three percentage points.” L responded, sticking his thumb in his mouth and nibbling in it.

“Oh, great, I am thrilled. What’s the total now?”

“I believe we are at fifteen percent, it’s getting fairly high.” L mused, as if they were discussing the weather.

For a moment she stared at L, with that unimpressed look that was so reminiscent of her, the kind she had given Light before too. The kind that said she knew exactly what he was doing and did not find it remotely clever. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that look… He missed a lot of those looks, even the ones that had always annoyed him at the time.

(And he hated that L was now there for all of this, that Light and Anna couldn’t just go home, go back to the way things used to be and…

This sort of frustration wasn’t productive.)

“See, Matsuda,” Anna jerked a thumb towards L, “If you get everyone coffee then he wins.”

“…You know, Miss Jones…”

“Anna.” Anna corrected for the umpteenth time.

“Anna,” Matsuda said, swallowing, pausing before blurting out, “It’s really not…”

“Yes, Matsuda, yes it is.” Anna said cutting him off and leaving it at that.

Matsuda, in his own way, did remind him of a less catty and temperamental version of Anna Jones. He was just some poor shmuck caught in the middle of two very large warring egos who really weren’t interested in him at all. The main difference between Matsuda and Anna though was that Anna was very aware that she was caught between L and Kira but Matsuda seemed to have absolutely no idea.

“I… Uh…” Even now, Matsuda was still trying to find a way to just go and get the coffee without Anna tearing him to pieces.

“Anna, I’ll go get the coffee.” Light finally said, standing up and gathering his coat, walking over and kissing her lightly on the cheek.

“Oh, great… That’s… very nice of you, Light.” Anna said, giving him a puzzled and somewhat alarmed look, one he’d been receiving a bit too often since she’d rejoined the task force. As if she had no idea what to make of anything he said or anything he did for her.

It was as if she kept expecting him to… He didn’t know what but not care for her wellbeing, care about her, touch her, basically treat her like a decent human being. And he knew, he knew that they hadn’t always had great moments in their relationship, that the stress of… of his father working on the Kira case and L’s investigation and Misa’s stalking hadn’t always made things easy but…

But it still hurt to see her flinch every time he touched her.  

(She’d asked, more than once now, just why he was so convinced they were dating. And he’d had to ask in return why she was so convinced that they hadn’t been, that all of those months before had been… he didn’t know what.)

“Oh, no, unacceptable, Light is much too busy to get coffee.” L said, waving his hand, “Matsuda has to go.”

“It’s really, really, not a problem guys!” Matsuda flailed, rubbing at the back of his head in embarrassment, “I can get the coffee.”

For a moment Anna simply glared at L, then glared at Matsuda, and then appeared to give in throwing her hands into the air (once more rattling the chain), “Fine, fine, let Ryuzaki trample all over you, Matsuda. It’s your life.”

Then, before anyone could bring anything else up to stop him, Matsuda was floundering out the door once again on the latest coffee run.

Everyone else quietly turned back to their work now that the drama of the day was over, casting suspicious eyes over at Anna Jones once again, trying to reconcile the young woman with Kira or else someone who really was just an innocent university student.

When they’d first imprisoned her, set up cameras in her cell, Light remembered Aizawa saying, “You know, I almost hope she really is Kira. Because if she isn’t… I don’t think I could handle knowing I could do something like this to an innocent person.”

Misa’s testimonial, at the time, had seemed damning enough combined with L’s evidence and confidence but...

But Light knew that that couldn’t and wouldn’t make it true.

During that time he had been the only one to never falter, always he had protested her conviction, had brought up why and how Anna Jones must be innocent no matter what Misa was saying. Misa had more than enough reason to throw Anna under the bus but little to convict the true original Kira.

It was too convenient for her and as time passed and L’s suspicions had failed to come to fruition L had been forced to back down. Not to give up, no, because that would open a can of worms that none of them wanted to get into but to say that Anna and Misa simply weren’t Kira at the present moment.

And then L said that Anna wasn’t even really Anna Jones, that she was someone else, but even then Light knew that this didn’t matter. That Anna’s secrets, whatever they were, weren’t really important. He didn’t know how he knew he just… He knew.

He knew her and that was the end of it.

Light, for his own part, continued to stand next to Anna, reaching out and brushing stray hair away from her face, “Are you alright?”

“…Fine, super fine… Just, you know, hanging in there.” She sighed, looking up at him in exhaustion, and he wondered again how much sleep she was getting. Locked in this building, chained to an insomniac, she was starting to look a bit like L herself, “You should probably head back to your computer… You know, do work, catch serial killers, that sort of thing…”

She wasn’t alright but she wasn’t about to say that in front of L, his father, or any of the rest of these people. And frankly, Light didn’t really blame her. These were the same men after all who had overseen her imprisonment and false execution.

Some part of Light wondered if he ever would forgive his father for letting that sort of thing happen. He wondered if he could ever forgive himself, because he’d just stood there, and he’d done nothing…

“Alright, but you know… You can always talk to me, when you need to I mean.” With L hanging over her shoulder listening to every word like a vulture. 

“Right.” She said with a wry smile before turning back to her own screen and listlessly scrolling through obituaries with a glazed look in her eyes, as she had been doing ever since she had joined the investigation.

Light, for his own part, was very tempted to believe that this was the original Kira and not a third one as L seemed to suspect. True, his schedule had changed, it seemed more like a usual nine to five sort of schedule rather than his student’s schedule but he killed on a scale that had only been seen from Kira in those first few weeks of his appearance.

It was almost impressive; if it wasn’t resulting in the deaths of thousands.

(Although, a small part of him was almost grateful, because at least these were still criminals. It could have been anyone, it could have been people like Sayu, but… At least it was people who could be said to deserve it.)

But tailing the original Kira was what had lead L first to the Kanto region, then to Tokyo, then to Anna Jones herself… Somehow they had to pour over evidence they already had and find who else could possibly fit that profile.

Not that Anna ever had fit that profile, no matter what L might think, personally Light felt that he himself was more likely to be Kira than she was.

He caught himself staring at her again, distracted from his own investigations.

In truth Misa was prettier than Anna Jones was or at least she put more of an effort in to appearing attractive. It wasn’t as if Anna was bad looking, she was striking in her own way, but the recent months had been hard on her. There was no make-up on Anna’s face, her hair was pulled back in a simple bun, she was wearing drab and gray sweats that L had provided to her, and she looked thin, tired, and barely holding herself together.

But she still glowed, she still had that inner fire that showed itself through the color of her eyes, the color of her hair, and the way that she never simply gave in. Anna Jones would always keep moving forward, even if it killed her.

She needed a break from this, he needed a break from this…

Tonight, he thought to himself, when the others have left and it was just him, Anna, L, and Misa up on her own floor he would have to convince L to let them do something completely unrelated to work or Kira.

Fun and stupid, that was what Anna always called these sorts of things.

They could watch one of those dumb American robot films she loved so much and she could finally just take a moment to relax. Only a moment, that’s all they needed.

* * *

“Good god Light, this is terrible.” She reached blindly for another slice of sashimi with her chop sticks, not taking her eyes from the screen, or even protesting when Light just grabbed the piece for her and placed his chop sticks in front of her mouth.

The life of Anna Jones in summary: high school girl dropped into parallel dimension by bastard deity, roommates and best friends with a serial killer the likes of which the world had never seen, suspect of serial murder by the world’s greatest detective with very few moral qualms regarding torture, handcuffed to said great detective, and now pseudo-girlfriend to the sensitive amnesiac version of the serial murderer who cuddled with her on couches, fed her sushi, and brought her terrible space robot films to watch.

Grabbing the piece of fish from him and chewing on it she continued without her eyes leaving the giant robot battle that was taking place on the screen, “Awful, awful stuff here, I love it.”

“I had a feeling you would.” Light said with a sigh, and the cuddling part just made this worse because she could actually feel him sigh. She could feel every time he took a breath and the worst part was that she had gotten used to it.

Normally this would bother her quite a bit.

It actually had bothered her more than quite a bit when she’d first been chained to L and made her second introduction to the task force. And hadn’t that been awkward for everyone involved? It was one thing for Light to be chained to L, and even Misa had made a comment about L being a dirty pervert then but it was an entirely different story for L to chain a young woman to himself and watch her shower with the excuse that she might kill him otherwise.

(And it was horrifying, those first few nights, but slowly… Slowly she was getting used to it, used to his eyes on the back of her neck, apathetic to the cuts in her wrist from the handcuffs, and she just… That honestly sort of scared her even more.)

Needless to say no one was really comfortable with the idea of handcuffs aside from L himself.

There they were though, her standing before all of these middle aged men, handcuffed to L and knowing that he was watching her sleep and just waiting for her to slip up so he could execute her and dance on her grave and then there was Light… hugging her, looking like she’d just returned from the dead and he was so happy to see her.

Light, thrilled to see her, and not in the sense that she’d just killed his archrival or revealed a secret that would help him take over the world. Just thrilled to see her.

It was almost more surreal and terrible than being handcuffed to L.

Much to her own disbelief it seemed that Light really did think they had been dating for a solid couple of months.

And if he wasn’t evil he’d probably be a decent boyfriend, a very good one actually, because as it was he was sacrificing his sleep, his future at the university, really everything just to make sure L didn’t either murder her or molest her when everyone’s back was turned.

And like the handcuffs the surreal horror of it all slowly bled away and she just got… comfortable. She accepted it, moved on, and somehow unintentionally found herself as Light’s girlfriend only occasionally wondering what on earth he could possibly be thinking.

(What had happened in November? The Raye Penber incident, the start of their… friendship? Alright, she’d accept that but how did that transform into dating without the notebook?)

Not to mention what he’d think later if he got his memories back… She tried not to think about that too much, it just… It would not be a great conversation, she was sure.

If Light wanted to touch her, bring her coffee, ask about her feelings, distract L, solve the case, then fine. Fine, why not? If L could handcuff himself to her without anyone protesting Light could be her boyfriend without anyone protesting…

Except for Misa, who would probably try to murder Anna in her sleep again if she ever got off that twentieth floor.

“I tried to find one with Ryuga Hideki but it appears B-rated science fiction isn’t his genre.” Light said, quietly, with a look of distaste as he watched the action scene. Ironically, Light found body counts in films distasteful, and as such could rarely get behind the plot of any great movie.

“That would have been quite the gem.” She replied, in all seriousness, because there was just something so awful about Ryuga Hideki that she couldn’t help but love. Also, just seeing him sing in space, the worst.

“Are you two finished yet?”

And then there was L, seated next to her, tapping his fingers on his knees and looking as irritated as he possibly could. He always was irritated when Light stayed a little too late and more so when Light refused to work.

“No one’s stopping you from working, Ryuzaki.” Anna said, floundering for another piece of sushi and having it delivered again via Light’s chop sticks.

He didn’t respond to that, simply stared down at her from his perched position on the armrest, a look of complete disdain on his features.

L and Light and handcuffs… And the Yotsuba arc. Nothing had happened yet, they’d been in this bizarre limbo but something… Eventually Light and L would track down Higuchi, Light would regain his memories, and then someday L could very well die.

It was what she had avoided thinking about, in prison because it was too far away, and here because… Because she was comfortable again. There was no threat of death or imprisonment, or there was but it was just a threat, here Light wasn’t Kira and L while handcuffed to her wasn’t sending her to the guillotine either.

And if she thought about it then she would have to decide if and how to save L, if she had to sacrifice Light to do it, if there was a time limit if they didn’t find Kira soon enough. It’d taken the task force five years to suspect Light after L’s death, how long if L was still alive and…

There was also a rather large part of her that wouldn’t be upset if L simply disappeared. Every time Light went home, every time she was left alone in this building with L, that piece became just a little bit larger.

It frightened the shit out of her.

“Anna?” Light asked, startling her out of her rather morbid thoughts.

“Hm, sorry, thinking…” She trailed off, giving Light a puzzled look, and then slowly said, “You know, the whole Misa thing. I know that you think… that we are… the dating thing but I’m pretty sure that if Misa doesn’t think you’re dating then…”

“I am not pretending to date Misa.” There was a flash of the old Light in him, something dangerous and not to be confronted, unfortunately it was either that or Anna Jones’ untimely demise.

“She might be willing to talk, open up, if you were to pretend to be interested.” L commented before adding almost slyly, “It might speed along the investigation.”

“And just toy with her emotions? As… As insane as Misa is she’s still a human being! I’m not the sort of man that would just use a woman like that.”

Funny, because he was exactly the sort of man that would just use a woman like that. L must have thought so too, because his eyes narrowed on Light, but then just as quickly the look was gone and he was shrugging, “Just a suggestion, since the investigation has been moving so pitifully slowly.”

For a moment they were silent, staring at the television, and then without her own consent she asked the question that she’d been thinking about incessantly since she was handcuffed to L, “What happens if you can’t solve the case?”

They would, they had before, but what if they didn’t? What if they just stayed in this odd limbo forever, where Light wasn’t Kira, was just a normal surprisingly good human being, and L was… not dead? It didn’t seem sustainable but…

“What do you mean?”

L usually spoke in a very dry tone, always making some wry comment, and despite his social obliviousness he had quite the sense of humor. There was nothing joking or oblivious in this, this was the voice he used in his soberest moments, when he was confronting Kira directly.

Those dark eyes drilled into hers and she wondered if he could see every single thought running through her head then.

(Flashes of the prison were running through her head, of that dark endless fuzziness and that same question over and over and over again. Are you Kira?)

All of the sudden she didn’t feel inclined to clarify.

But L, it appeared, did, “If I can’t solve the case, if the case is unsolvable, then L will cease to exist. You, Anna Jones, of all people should be aware of that.”

Not die, not lose, but cease to exist. She… She couldn’t remember if he had ever worded it like that in the manga or the anime in his confrontations with Light. It sounded strange.

Light’s arm tightened around her and he said, with all the assurance and confidence that only a tired amnesiac Light could have, “Don’t worry, we’ll get him. We’re catching Kira together, after all.”

“Right, together.” She echoed, smiling weakly back, wondering what it was she had missed and why L was staring at her like that.

(Later, the next day, she began to look more closely at the obituaries. Higuchi’s great error, she remembered, was that he had killed several prominent C.E.O’s of rival corporations in a short amount of time, all of them dying from something other than a heart attack.

And while she’d scrolled through idly, waiting for Light to come to the realization that Kira didn’t have to kill via heart attacks, nothing had caught her eye.

And that was when it dawned her, cold and dark, settling deep in her stomach.

Nothing had caught her eye.

There were only heart attacks, far more than Higuchi would have performed, and no illnesses or accidents with corporate motivations involved. It was as if… As if it was Light all over again, someone who truly believed in Kira, but going further, beyond murderers and rapists to arsonists, thieves, and dealers.

And Anna Jones realized, standing with a horrified lurch, her eyes widening, that she wasn’t in the Yotsuba arc at all.)


	23. Chapter 23

_“I suppose the flat out truth is that I simply don’t understand L.”_

* * *

He remembered, vaguely, in the way that some of his memories seemed fuzzier or clearer than others, that he had quite often seen Anna Jones in states of complete and utter panic. There were holes in the why, he couldn’t quite put his finger on why these bouts of panic would happen so often, only that he usually was upset at the time himself sometimes because of her and sometimes because of Misa or… Things he couldn’t quite remember.

No, that wasn’t right, he remembered them but they… They didn’t fit right, there were odd gaps in logics, things that didn’t make sense but should, like he was remembering the logic of a dream rather than reality. He had to go back and force logic and feelings and sentiment together, stitch these pieces back into the quilt they should have been, and then step back to make sense of the pattern.

It had never been like that before. He’d once had a very good memory, he still did, but the jagged edges in his mind seemed to grow larger with each passing day. To the point where they… unnerved him.

Regardless he knew that Anna wasn’t suffering from anxiety, or at least, needless anxiety, and that she had very good reasons to act and feel the way she did but all the same he couldn’t…

Mostly though, he remembered her expression, those wide eyes and paling face, and then there would be a panicked explanation, a twisting of current events, planning for the fallout, and sickly sweet relief when the storm passed over.

Except for that one time it didn’t.

Regardless he was achingly familiar with the tension in her shoulders, the distant look in her eyes, the way her fingers shook as she brushed hair out of her face, and furiously scribbled onto a piece of paper as if it was all that might save her.

(And she had never looked to him for help, not then, not now, and she should have. They were so close, knew so much of each other, and she should have known that she could turn to him just as he would turn to her. She should have known that, but she didn’t, didn’t even seem to consider it.

And strangely enough, when he first realized she wouldn’t ask for his help, he instinctively didn’t consider it either.)

She was so invested that she didn’t even seem to notice the way L’s eyes lingered on her, with only Light to catch him staring, as they were entering the unreasonable hours of the late night when all the rest had gone home.

And only Light, L, and Anna remained.

His grades in university, miraculously, were not slipping although he barely spent any thought towards or time at school anymore. It somehow seemed shortsighted, unimportant, even though he knew it was anything but that. However, if they didn’t catch Kira by the start of the next term he might very well have to take a semester off, if only to truly devote his full attention to the investigation.

But he couldn’t truly believe they’d all still be here a year from now or even three months from now. Already their situation seemed so tenuous, as if any move from any of them, or even something beyond their control, could send it all spiraling into disaster.

“I must say, Anna, I am impressed.” L drawled, “I had half a mind to believe you were Kira simply for how little you’ve been doing since you joined the task force.”

Anna dropped her pen, apparently done with whatever it was she was doing, stretching fingers out with a wince, and staring down at the numbers with a focus Light hadn’t seen since before her imprisonment, “Thanks, Ryuzaki, your boundless appreciation of my efforts is always… appreciated.”

“I would hope my boundless appreciation is always duly appreciated, Anna.” L quipped back, before adding, “Nevertheless, since you’ve been such an eager-beaver, I’m curious what you’ve actually been doing all day, since it’s not your usual covert attempts to play Tetris.”

Light winced, as Anna had been making very blatant attempts to play Tetris instead of working in those first few days when she’d joined the task force. Which he didn’t necessarily blame her, at least not for a few minutes, the investigation wore on him too after all and he wasn’t handcuffed to L, but none the less her life was on the line and she could have at least acted concerned.

Plus, it wasn’t as if this was new behavior for Anna Jones. She had never been invested in school, achieving the grades she did through what seemed like acts of god, or for that matter in anything else.

She’d acted like… Well, not like it was a game, but that her opinion or thought or input didn’t matter. Like it would all be fine if she did nothing, or that her help wouldn’t even change anything. Something about this was familiar, and he knew there was a reason why she acted this way, why she was fatalistic to a surreal degree, but never the less it infuriated him beyond measure. That she could just sit there and do nothing even while she knew the world was crashing down over her head. 

“Statistics,” Anna said with a grimace, “Looking to see if there’s any areas in Japan with an unreasonably high death rate, then looking at all the heart attacks in the country and seeing what they have in common as far as news reporting is concerned, jail location, trial location… you know, that sort of thing.”

He’d almost rather have her doing nothing. This only added to that feeling that they were chasing their own tails looking for this bastard.

Light grimaced, pulling a hand through his own hair at the sudden burst of lethargy and fatigue inside of him, “Anna, Ryuzaki and I have been doing that for weeks already…”

She looked up at him, her eyes cutting, and all at once he had a flash of recognition that this was the Anna he knew, the one beneath that softer more outgoing girl or even the sarcastic and lazy one that had taken up residence in headquarters, “I know, don’t worry, I looked through your results too… I’m not that stupid.”

He hadn’t meant it like that, he was tired, he should go home but if he went home then…

“Japan, is Kira still in Japan? Certainly, if we assume a nine to five working day, a half hour lunch break, then he easily fits within our current time zone. There also are a fair number of Japanese criminals killed recently, but that hardly deviates from Kira’s previous pattern, so he could be simply copying Kira’s trends.” L said.

Anna’s eyes narrowed and she gave L a nonplussed expression, “You think Kira’s still in Japan.”

“As you, apparently, do too, Anna. Now, I know why I’m so certain he’s in Japan, most likely still in the Kanto region, possibly even in Tokyo itself, but why are you? After all, you haven’t been rifling through several weeks’ worth of death reports from all over the globe to confirm this.”

For a moment, she froze, paled once again, and then something in her seemed to crack and that familiar, pushed beyond the limit, expression of zero-tolerance returned, “Are you shitting me?”

“I do not shit people, Anna.”

She held up her hands, the links of the handcuffs clinking together, “You have been claiming I am Kira, for weeks, because you forced me into an investigation I didn’t want to join…”

“Forced is a strong word, you had other options.”

“Oh, what, be arrested? Which you went and did anyways because Misa the psychopath said my name…”

“It was highly suspicious, and more, confirmed all of the suspicions I already held concerning you.”

Anna continued as if he hadn’t interrupted, “Or, this latest time, where my other option was to be smothered in my sleep by Misa because you and Watari couldn’t be bothered to watch the goddamn cameras you installed all over that floor! So, gee, thanks L, thank you for my bucket load of choices.”

L opened his mouth, probably to state that these were still choices, however much Anna personally didn’t like them, but Anna continued, “So I join, with absolutely no experience as a detective, handcuffed to you, with you watching me shower, which I will have the great pleasure of going through tonight again, and having no idea at all what I’m doing and no clearances to even work with police data for the first week until you blackmailed Light’s dad enough times. And you complain, that since I’m not pitching in, I must be Kira. Then, when I finally start doing things, when I actually try being a ‘productive member of society’, you complain that I must be Kira, because I narrow my search down to Japan, where we’ve always been looking. So, what do you want Ryuzaki? What do you want me to do? Tell me, oh wise and glorious master, and I will sit here and do it and you can take your Kira score and shove it up your ass!”

L didn’t blink, he rarely blinked, but instead stared for a moment too long before blandly stating, “It appears I have no choice but to increase your Kira score by a percentage for distracting me from my original point.”

Anna barked out a sharp laugh, throwing her hands up in the air, “Of course, right, alright, tally it up Ryuzaki. What am I at today?”

“Nineteen percent. That’s almost one in five.”

It was sad, Light thought, how this was starting to irritate him more than it infuriated him. After a week’s worth of listening to Anna and L bicker at each other, at almost every single moment of every single day, which almost resembled terrible flirting if it wasn’t L, the humanoid trash can, and Anna, his blackmailed hostage; Light had reached his limit.

If they spent half as much time working as they did verbally fencing with one another they’d probably have caught Kira by now.

“Ryuzaki, I know those percentages are complete bullshit.”

L paused, looked at her, puzzled, “I’m sorry?”

“Your percentages, they are complete and utter bullshit, and I know it. Light knows it. Everyone knows it.” Anna said, crossing her arms and fixing him with the dubious raised eyebrow look, “And it makes you sound like a total jackass.”

For a moment L simply stared, and then, out of nowhere he began to laugh. Light had heard L chuckle, no giggle, L giggled, but this was actual, honest to god, laughter, “And here I thought your sense of irony had abandoned you completely, my friend.”

Friend, something about that word seemed deliberate, as if he truly meant it. Had he ever referred to either of them as his friends? Light couldn’t remember, he’d certainly been around enough, but then that had always been a pretense of suspecting Anna as Kira and Light as her unwilling advisor.

But then those words, about Anna’s past, floated to Light’s brain and once again Light wondered just what L had meant by that.

“…That was not ironic, at all. Also, we’re not friends.”

L continued laugh, eventually calming down and agreeing, “Ah, too right, friends don’t let friends murder thousands for the sake of their own delusions of godhood.”

“Also not Kira.”

A small, strangely nostalgic, smile, “Well then, if I am wrong, and you’re not Kira then I suppose we must be friends.”

“And still not friends.” Anna said, raising her wrist and stating, “Friends don’t handcuff friends to themselves, accuse them of serial killing daily, and throw them into solitary confinement for over a month.”

L’s smile dimmed and for a moment he looked at her, seemed to be searching for something inside of her, and failed to find it, “That’s a shame, after all, I consider you to be my only true friend.”

She turned to look at Light, who looked back at her in equal confusion, in tandem they looked back at L, Anna jerking a thumb towards Light, “You sure you don’t mean him?”

“Of course, Light has grown on me in this past year of our acquaintanceship but… It’s hardly important, or relevant here.”

Then why did he keep bringing it up?

He glanced at the clock, too late, far too late to think, he’d be useless tomorrow if he didn’t leave now. However, glancing back at them, at the way they glowed in the computer light, knowing that they would remain even as he left and rejoined the world of the living. What moments did they share when his back was turned, what dark secrets, what moments of fear, doubt, or even connection did they hide away when no one was looking?

Slowly, with hesitation, he stood, hugged Anna goodbye one last time, perhaps lingering or allowing her to linger in his touch longer than he should have, and then gathered his things and made his way out the door and into the night.

And even though he didn’t look back, began to walk towards the subway through the empty streets, he couldn’t help but picture them just as he’d left them. Staring at one another, her in dubious frustration, him with that piercing amused glance, and something unnamed and unknowing floating between them.

* * *

L, thankfully, didn’t actually watch her shower.

Oh, he was in the same room, which was bad enough, but at least he didn’t look. Or, well, it should have been bad enough, mostly it reminded of her of how pushed she’d been, that she didn’t find this as disturbing as she should. Instead it was just obnoxious, it wasn’t… disturbing.

Either way, it made her wonder if he would have looked at Light, in those off-screen moments no one ever saw of the Yotsuba arc, she had never been an L and Light shipper herself so she’d always doubted it but then it could have happened.

Perhaps it didn’t matter, since the Yotsuba arc was now the arc that never was, and Light had avoided the fate of being handcuffed to L and dumped it on her lap instead (or had she brought it on herself, or had there been no avoiding it the moment she came to this stupid world). Either way, in this place, in this time, L didn’t look.

It seemed almost out of character for him though.

L, Anna had learned, lived off getting under people’s skin. Beyond being a detective, ridiculously intelligent, he was kind of a giant troll waiting for the internet to hurry up and take off so he could infuriate millions instead of just police officers and… well, her.

Given that, even if L hadn’t been interested or wanted to look, he should have. Because it would get to her, unnerve her, as much as declaring her Kira or handcuffing her to himself would unnerve her.

Although, he did say the first time they’d gone through this whole Anna changing, showering, or just being naked thing, “I forgot how old you were.”

Which meant… Well, who knew what it meant because L should know exactly how old Anna was and everything (well the fake everything produced for her by the evil god) about her. So, it wasn’t an age comment and even if it was it was just creepy. She didn’t like to think about that, or most of what L said.

L had been saying a lot of alarming things recently, things he probably shouldn’t be saying, like saying that she was his best friend rather than Light, or… Well, whatever the hell else he’d been saying that she flat out did not understand.

It was almost as alarming as the fact that Higuchi wasn’t Kira, for some unknown and terrifying reason, and that whoever the actual Kira was he wasn’t making the same mistakes Higuchi did. At least, not that she could tell at a glance. There were no mysterious deaths of businessmen, no pattern to any non-heart attack related death, just heart attacks, many heart attacks.

Someone just as, if not more, fervently dedicated to the cause as Light himself was. And that was… worrying, there were no dead cops yet, no dead news anchors or journalists, but that was the step Misa had taken and later Mikami…

What if this Kira, this new unknown Kira, crossed the line that Light himself had never allowed himself to cross? That line into dystopia, where to think the wrong thing, to say the wrong thing, was to condemn yourself to death by a fickle and all too human god.

“Are you ever going to leave the shower?”

And all at once she remembered that she was handcuffed, showering, with L sitting on the outside peering into the fogged mirrors with a put-upon expression.

She had to stop herself from automatically apologizing, because goddammit she was not apologizing for showering, “Got caught thinking.”

L said nothing to this for a moment, but then after a too long pause, commented, “I’ve been thinking, reminiscing, as well.”

Anna had hardly been reminiscing about the good old non-imprisoned, non-terrified, non-Death Note days of her youth, but she wasn’t about to tell L that. As it was, L didn’t seem to be paying attention to her.

“Do you ever get tired of these games we play, Anna?”

For a moment, she debated saying she had no idea what he was talking about, but then, thinking about it and deciding that she really was tired enough to give him an honest response she said, “All of the time.”

“You always did.”

She blinked, it was true, she always had at least… since Light, but how the hell would he know that? Or, why would he think that, since he kept saying she was Kira rather than Light. And what the hell was he even talking about? As much as he wanted to play the friends card pretending to be close to her didn’t actually make them close.

“I forced Naomi Misora to play against B in my stead, hardly fair, I know. None the less, that was how the dice were cast, and in the end, it worked out for the best. Well, save for Beyond Birthday who sits scarred beyond recognition, waiting for Kira’s hammer to fall upon him, just like all the rest.” L mused, and something in her froze at the words, because she couldn’t remember if he had ever discussed LABB with Light. Had ever mentioned Beyond Birthday, or what had happened to him and… And she had assumed he hadn’t, that he wouldn’t, because L had barely discussed his past with Light. There’d been no need to, or desire to, and that had suited him more, and to L she wasn’t all that different from Light, in the same situation at least.

So why was he telling her this?

“I thought you were tired of playing games.” L chided, somehow sensing through the tense silence, her own growing anxiety.

“Right, Naomi Misora solved the LABB case with your advice…. I think Light’s seen that case somewhere.” She offered, lamely, as an excuse why the hell she even knew what that was or what that meant. Which really, she couldn’t even remember most of the details, and hadn’t liked it all that much to begin with. Beyond Birthday lighting himself on fire had been the important bit, other than that, there was that one jam scene?

L didn’t respond, and glancing at his back, she noticed that he was unusually stiff. Where his slouch was usually such a casual thing, here it seemed almost forced, “I didn’t have anyone to play for me this time, when I realized it was you on the other side of the board…”

Well, L was talking… weirdly, “Well, I suppose that would be true, if I was Kira.”

L finally turned to look at her, through the mist on the walls of the shower glass, looking completely and utterly exasperated, “You know, Anna, for once I wasn’t actually discussing the Kira case. I am capable of talking about other things now and then.”

For a moment she just stared at him, him staring at her, then she got a hold of her senses and threw the bottle of shampoo against the glass, startling him, “Eyes in front jackass!”

L swiftly turned his head once again, bringing up his hands in a surrendering motion, “And here I was trying to be an intellectual, talking about shared memories and experiences, things other than Kira, and this is my reward.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” She bit out, breathing in and out, telling herself that she didn’t care at all that L had just stared at her naked in the shower, because he clearly didn’t care, and he’d been doing it for weeks anyways when she was living with Misa…

“And you wonder why I always accuse you of being Kira.” He scoffed, like this had anything to do with anything they were talking about.

She was beginning to suspect they were having two completely different conversations.

“Yes, I am a high school student, a foreign high school student who can barely read! What made you look at me and think, well she must be Kira? What logical person would come to that conclusion?”

“Well, when you put it like that, it certainly does sound pointedly ridiculous.” L mused, not phased at all by the fact that he himself had admitted that his suspicions were ridiculous, “Never the less, all signs point to you and your friend Light Yagami.”

And Anna was done, done in a way that she had rarely been done before, done with the showering and the hand cuffs and the skirting around the issue of L and what he knew or thought or what she gave away to him. He was right, she was done with the games, “Alright, L, if we’re being real with each other, or whatever, then do you really think I’m Kira? Really? Or are you just using me to get to Misa or Light, which would be a dick move by the way.”

L didn’t answer this, but instead said, “I told Light Yagami that your documents were forged. Your passport, your drivers’ license, every piece of paper that makes you Anna Jones is nothing more than a clever forgery.”

He knew, he knew that she wasn’t real, the god had failed and he knew that Anna Jones led back only to Light’s bedroom after the notebook had already fallen. All her confidence spilled from her and down into the dark drain, leaving her shaking, and wondering if this was why he was so certain. Anna Jones didn’t exist, a seventeen-year-old foreigner who didn’t exist, showing up just when Kira did and…

And how could she even begin to explain that?

How could she explain a god, gods of death, without revealing Light for what he was? Would L even believe her if she did? Was this why he was so certain, so convinced, and did this mean that there was nothing she could do to convince him that he was wrong?

“He has alarming faith in you, though, seemed to know already.”

She blinked, brought back into the conversation, fumbled for a moment and said, “...He’s a good friend.”

And he was, at the moment, and perhaps he even was back then. Whatever he was or had been, whatever he’d put her through, he had given up his memories. And even though it wasn’t for her, couldn’t possibly be for her, he’d still done it.

And he was the one seeing her through this now.

And she would acknowledge that, it was the least she owed him.

L didn’t look at her, instead looked at the doorway, possibly his own warped reflection in the golden handle, and said, “Yes, he is.”


	24. Chapter 24

_“It’s amazing what you can get used to and the things that you just can’t.”_

* * *

Every morning, after everyone had shuffled into the headquarters building for another day on the case, they would have a group discussion to bring everyone up to speed on any leads made in the past day. There they would sit, every morning, facing each other on the couches, each of them drinking far too much coffee to be healthy, dark circles underneath all their eyes, and each of them looking on the verge of illness.

Somehow though, it brought them all together despite their diversity, so that men as old as Light’s father and a young woman like Anna Jones had the same exhausted feeling to their souls. There was a certain aura about each of them, an unspoken comradery and tension, that declared that they each were a member of this investigation.

And Light, he would come in earliest, before any classes at the university started, and he’d always find himself looking her over, trying to determine what had happened when he’d left the night before by her appearance alone.

Strangely enough, he had no idea what went on behind those closed doors. For all that Light was good at reading Anna, was probably the person who knew her the best, there were just some things he couldn’t get out of her with a glance or two or even a conversation. She was… opaque, at times, always had been, and perhaps that was half of what he found so appealing about her, she was never boring and never entirely easy to guess.

At times though, it was absurdly frustrating, perhaps even infuriating.

(It would be so much easier, so much simpler, if she could just shut up and do what he needed her to.)

But that had nothing to do with the actual content of the meetings. The meetings themselves, well, the discoveries they’d presented thus far in these meetings had been anticlimactic and minimal at best, and all had come from either Light or L.

It wasn’t that his father and the others were stupid, or helpless without L to guide them, they were just far more thorough about their work, and more, they still had lives outside of their jobs. Light was barely home anymore, Sayu commented that he was starting to act like dad, and L, well, L didn’t appear to have anything else other than his work.

More, they lacked L or Light’s intuitiveness, that instinctive ability to pattern match and extrapolate, and Light had to remind himself that it was unfair to hold this against them. That he and L weren’t carrying this team on their backs.

Perhaps it was only natural that the only major leads they had originated from either his work or L’s.

Regardless, what they did have, at least to Light, seemed so unimpressive in retrospect.

The first major theory, one L had brought to the table after only a few days, when Anna still was on a floor with Misa glaring at cameras, was that they were no longer hunting their first Kira or even the second, but instead a third unknown Kira.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say it was a virus,” L commented, his eyes a little duller than they usually were, and a terse look of exasperation etched onto his normally unreadable face, “Somebody sneezes and we find ourselves with another Kira.”

Light wasn’t sure if he agreed or disagreed. Logically, this hypothetical third Kira greatly resembled the first. He lived in Japan, he most likely lived in Tokyo, and true while he had a work schedule as opposed to a school schedule he was extremely diligent, saw this as divine duty almost, and killed an almost inconceivable number of criminals each day.

That was all very much in the original Kira’s vein of thought.

All the same though, as convenient for Anna as it would be if this man was the original Kira, Light could see L’s point. The original Kira, going back over the case and various incidents, had… more of a spark than this new one. Well, at times, there were times when he would push and then when he’d pull, when he’d strike and then when he’d lie in wait.

The original Kira was very aware of L’s actions, more, probably welcomed his actions against him in some strange way. Like it was all secretly just a chess game, with the world as their pawns…

This Kira, however, seemed entirely indifferent to L. Of course, this could be because L hadn’t made any moves as he had before, hadn’t whittled down his task force, hadn’t appeared on national television but… All the same, Light didn’t think he was wrong about this.

However, he always found himself hesitating to agree with L outright, if only because if he agreed then… Then Anna’s name might never be cleared, despite her innocence, because if they caught this Kira then L would still somehow try to pin Anna as the original.

Yes, that would be just like the bastard.

The next round of conclusions had been those Light had brought to the table, which always seemed like little more than dull reaffirmations of what felt painfully obvious, that Kira was in Japan, that he was in the Kanto region, that he was most likely a working adult (as opposed to a student), that he had extended his reach to criminals that Kira himself had rarely touched (such as drug dealers, thieves, and arsonists), that the rate of deaths had increased dramatically since the time of Anna’s imprisonment (almost reaching that first week or so of Kira’s existence). Important observations, yes, but not ones that would narrow it down to any one suspect.

So, Light could hardly call himself hopeful as he walked in and took his customary seat next to Anna Jones, handing her a cup of coffee. Still, he couldn’t help but hope to himself, they must be getting closer. Each day they worked on this case, they had to be getting closer to something concrete.

Surely, the case must be solvable.

“You are a god,” Anna said as she took her cup in reverence, “Ah, sweet caffeine, continually allowing me the illusion that I can function with three hours of sleep a night.”

“That bad?” Light asked, a small fond smile tugging at his lips as he watched her, and she spared him a rather dull and unimpressed look, the bags under her eyes almost as prominent as L’s.

“Ryuzaki believes sleep is for the weak,” she said dully, as if this explained everything.

“Ryuzaki believes sleep is for the lazy and the underworked,” L cut in, typing away on his laptop, not bothering to glance at either of them as he did so, “He does not have the time to sacrifice on such frivolous luxuries.”

“…This is the shit I live with, Light.” Anna said, motioning towards L with a look of complete exasperation, before taking a long swig of the coffee and then shuddering at the taste.

He couldn’t help but smile at the sight, she’d always been a little odd, even before all of this, but even then, “You know, Anna, I think prison has made you that much more eccentric than you used to be.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Anna said with a scoff and raised eyebrows, “Also, I’m not sure I appreciate that sentiment.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Light said, pausing and trying to think of what he was trying to say, it wasn’t that he liked the changes, or that he disliked them… He wished she didn’t have to go through this, he wished he’d get her out that much sooner but, “It’s… almost charming, you could have changed in so many ways, no one would blame you if it was for the worse but… Somehow, I think you’ve become more yourself.”

“Oh god, I hope not.” Anna Jones said with a blank look on her face, “Also, did you just imply that… Actually, I have no idea what you think it is I’m becoming, or I am beneath everything, a coffee addict for one thing.”

“The coffee, I think, is a side effect,” Light commented, “I’d say you were addicted to Tetris before I would coffee.”

“Hey,” Anna said with an accusing look as she still sipped at her drink, “Don’t knock Tetris, that is a classic game, man.”

This sort of conversation, this sort of moment, it always reminded him of before, of… Not every moment, but many of them, the quiet moments in between those of great consequences. It was so easy to picture them sitting on a couch with Sayu, watching television that neither of them particularly enjoyed or understood, with Sayu explaining the plot to them both.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed these small, insignificant, moments in his life.

“Would you two please stop flirting with each other?” L asked, as pleasantly as he could manage while still sounding as passive aggressive as ever, eyes not even leaving the screen of his laptop, “I think it’s making me ill.”

Anna paled, her eyes growing wide, as if she’d only just realized that their conversation could be thought of as flirting and Light… He felt something in him sink and grow hard at that expression, after all this time, and he knew it wasn’t because she didn’t like him or appreciate him but… But still, every time he saw it a knot in his heart just grew that much tighter.

Light offered a thin, polite, and pleasant smile to L, and suggested in his most charming voice, “Now there’s a thought, Ryuzaki, if you find our flirting so distracting why don’t you go out and get yourself a girlfriend.”

As Light could have probably predicted, Anna choked and then spewed coffee immediately, and L himself stopped typing and turned to look at him with a truly baffled (and not that fake look of confusion that he tried to pass off normally) expression. Neither of them said anything, Anna coughing still, trying to desperately catch her breath, and L just staring at him unblinkingly, but Light felt something inside him goading him on to continue anyways.

Because wouldn’t it be nice, if just once, it was L who was squirming instead of Light or Anna?

“Then you wouldn’t have to concern yourself so much over my relationship with Anna. You know, now that I think about it, I’ve heard Misa is available.”

The pair exchanged a rather dismayed look with each other, and then with Light, and… He hadn’t expected that, because that was the sort of look she exchanged with him, not with L. And true, theirs didn’t have the same depth, seemed to have caught both by surprise but…

“Well, at any rate, glad you like the coffee,” Light said weakly, to which Anna nodded and offered him a small and silent toast with the cup.

“Yes… Thanks, Light, it’s always appreciated,” she said, smiling weakly, before adding, “I mean that, by the way, I really don’t take any of this for granted.”

She wasn’t talking about the coffee, or even this situation, but something deeper. That she had always expected less from him…

“I know,” he said with a nod, and that was all they said for a while, L continuing to type, Anna staring dully ahead and sipping quietly at her coffee, and Light just staring at them both.

It wasn’t domestic by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a certain air to this scene, the three of them sitting there, one Light wasn’t quite sure how to describe. At any rate, the moment bled away as first Matsuda appeared, then Light’s father, and slowly but surely everyone else until they were all facing each other for their morning routine.

Finally, L put the lap top aside and stared at them all with that unpleasant quirk of his lips that he called a smile, “Well, now that we’re all here I suppose we should get started. Did anyone have any remarkable epiphanies yesterday?”

They shift uncomfortably in their seats, Light’s father included, and it’s always a bit of a surreal experience that L, this crouching, oversized, bird of a human being, decades younger than most of these men, biting his thumb and not even blinking, has made these people look like idiot school children.

“I might have something,” Anna said, wiping her face and sighing, even as all their attention turned to her, looking like she was doing her best to ignore all of that.

“Really?” L looked, frankly, quite astonished, but oddly enough not dubious, it was always hard to read L but he made no pretense of not being dismissive (particularly with Matsuda), but here he was looking at her the way he might look at Light if he’d said the same thing, like he respected her opinion for whatever reason.

“Yes, Ryuzaki, really,” Anna bit out before sighing once again, and starting, “I think, the reason we’re not finding him, is because he doesn’t want to be found.”

Aizawa, scoffed, muttered under his breath to the effect of, “no shit”, and Anna’s eyes sharpened as she looked at him.

“Kira, our friend the original Kira, wanted to be found, this one doesn’t.” She smiled grimly, clearly beyond irritated, to which all of the original task force members looked grimly back with irritation and dismissal.

Original Kira, did she realize what she was saying? If this Kira wasn’t the first then… Then she’d still be here when it ended, still would be a suspect, but here she was saying it anyways (and clearly she’d thought it over, by the grimness of her expression clearly she considered this a higher priority than her own life).

Aizawa stopped muttering at the very least and straight up asked, “Are you suggesting that he wanted to get caught, out of some suppressed guilt or something?”

“I didn’t say caught, I said found, there’s a difference. The original Kira, the first one, took moral threats to his philosophy very seriously. Maybe it’s because he started this whole thing, maybe it’s because he’s a competitive jackass, or maybe it’s because Ryuzaki humiliated him on national television, who knows? Either way, Kira, really, really, really wanted L dead. Not just someday, but by his own hand, and perhaps even close enough that L could look at the whites in his eyes. It’s why he toyed with the police, why he dropped so many hints, he needs to be close enough to get a look at L’s face. This one, this new Kira, doesn’t.”

Anna makes some vague hand motion as she continued, “This new guy, he’s a bit more… of a zealot than the original, it shows in the sheer number of deaths, this guy must spend every moment of his free time researching and then killing. I mean, my god, we see deaths consistently through lunch hours and well into the night. Hell, he might even consider himself some sort of messiah figure. When you have power like that, when you lose your sense of… the sardonic I suppose, then someone like L, well, he’s an annoyance, not a threat.”

“L is mortal, he’s going to die, Kira doesn’t have to see his face, doesn’t have to know his name, he just has to wait him out until L crawls into his grave on his own. And even if someone replaces L, they’ll be just as ineffective, and eventually people will realize that there’s no point to L and L, this investigation, will be finished without Kira even having to lift a finger.” Anna lifts her finger as if to prove this point, finally having managed to capture the attention of everyone in the room, then with a sigh, she falls back onto the couch, “Of course, he’s probably overlooking the fact that he’s mortal too, but hell at this point he could have very well convinced himself that he is Jesus.”

For a moment, none of them say anything, each probably trying to picture what such a man could possibly be like, but then Anna continued, “At any rate, probably more important than that, I think he has some connection to the legal system.”

And here, here was the outrage, many cries out even as Anna held up a hand, “Look at the dates and look at the victims, the small-time victims from Tokyo, this guy is whacking some of them before they even are sentenced, some before they even take the stand, and all people that the press just doesn’t care about. He could be a cop, he could be a judge, he could be a lawyer even, but he’s somewhere inside of the legal system. And since he doesn’t care about L he also isn’t nearly as meticulous in covering his tracks or subterfuge in general, unlike our friend the first Kira, who as we all know was a magnificently cunning bastard.”

How had… How had Light and L missed that? Light, he’d been more focused on the numbers, the time zones, the places, and perhaps the kind of criminal but he hadn’t thought about their publicity, how Kira himself would have found out about them. It was well covered that the original Kira had some connection with the police, some way into their database at the very least, and perhaps Light had been unconsciously assuming that (and so had never thought about it afterwards).

And a thought struck Light, “The original Kira had a connection to the police… Why are we so certain this isn’t the same one? Perhaps he’s not making any moves because he’s already made them, is still waiting for L to close in, or perhaps this is his move. Perhaps this killing of smaller, pettier, criminals is his way of grabbing our attention.”

His eyes locked onto Anna Jones, he caught her staring back, blankly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, “After all, Anna really has a superficial connection to the police. She lived in our house, true, but she doesn’t know the system, wouldn’t know how to access the database at the very least.”

“Then what about the change in schedule?” Mogi asked.

That was trickier, Light wasn’t certain about that, but then Kira couldn’t have remained a student forever so perhaps something had come to pass, “Schedules change, and he’s changed the times of the killings every now and then, it’s been almost a year now, after all.”

“Convenient,” L said dully.

“Convenient?” Light repeated, something dark clawing its way inside of him, perhaps knowing just why Kira wanted this man to suffer so badly, “Logical, you mean, what is the likelihood of two Kiras having this connection with the law? For that matter, what is the likelihood of a high school exchange student, a teenaged girl, being a mass murderer?”

“Unlikely, but Anna Jones being Kira, now that is extremely likely,” L responded blithely, as if wrapping things up with a nice little bow, “Well, this has all been very interesting, good work Anna, and Light… You can do better.”

Light was not a violent person by nature. He’d never been in fights at school, never been tempted to, and he’d never been impulsive. All the same, he didn’t even realize he’d launched himself at L until Matsuda and Aizawa were dragging him backwards.

“You self-centered, stubborn, evil ass!” Light cried out, trying to struggle out of their grip, to reach over and strangle that pale bastard, “Why are you so set on seeing her dead when you have every reason not to?! I’m more likely to be Kira! I lived in the same house, I’m the son of a policeman, I’m the best student in the country, I’m competitive, I have very little sympathy for rapists and murderers, so why do you insist that it has to be her?!”

“Light, calm down…”

Oh, but Light was having none of it, “Did you just see her picture one day and think, “That one, the ginger, she looks like a Kira to me”?! Is that how this happened!”

“Light!” This was his father, mortified probably, Light had always been the model son after all, and there was no love lost between Anna Jones and his father (and didn’t he just hate his father a little for that, for assuming she was guilty just because L said she was).

“Do you even know her at all?!” Light asked, feeling the absurd need to laugh as he stared at L and Anna Jones chained next to him, “She would never be Kira, isn’t capable of it! She thinks too much, has read far too many dystopic novels, is far too introspective to shape society to her whims. No, it takes a very, very, special person to become Kira, and Anna Jones is not it!”

And just like that, staring at L, the fight left him. Slowly, after a few seconds, Light was released and left standing and staring at L who just stared silently back at him. And in that moment, that still second, Light saw something like acknowledgement in L’s eyes.

And he knew, without question, without reason, that L had never suspected Anna of being Kira at all.

He’d always suspected Light Yagami.

But then the moment was gone, L turned his gaze elsewhere, Light sat down, and Light, winded and tired beyond imagining, wondered if he’d just imagined it. Anna, for her own part, didn’t say a word.

“Right, well, in other news, it appears that Misa’s disappearance has been… noted.” L said slowly, meeting the blank stares of the policemen, “And since she is not currently the second Kira, but undoubtedly was at some point, we cannot simply let her go despite not having technically solved the case.”

L tapped his fingers against his knees, scanning the group, until his eyes landed on Matsuda. Matsuda paled.

“So, with that in mind, Misa will be returning to her work, with supervision in the form of her new manager, which, since we have no one else to spare, will be Matsuda.”

Needless to say, only L looked pleased with himself, the rest of them looked quite floored, including Matsuda, Misa Amane’s new manager.

Anna, however, was the first to break the dumbfounded silence, “Oh, you son of a bitch, are you serious?”

“Quite,” L responded drily with raised eyebrows, as if he had no idea what Anna could possibly be upset about.

“You let Misa, Misa, who we have DNA evidence of being Kira, and more who stalked Light and me for weeks, go back out into the world of the living while I have to stay and be handcuffed to your side?”

“Yes, well, Misa Amane has been missed, you haven’t.” L said with a polite smile, no, an amused one, as if he found this entertaining, more found it to be actively fun, as if he and Anna were having a grand old time, “Perhaps you should have thought about being a pop star, Anna.”

“She framed me for murder,” Anna said through gritted teeth, her eyes burning dangerously, “She tried to suffocate me with a pillow!”

“Well, Anna, can I help the acquaintances you’ve picked up?”

And this time, unfortunately, there was no one to hold back Anna as she launched herself at him, punching him square in the face, not with any real precision or practice, but hard enough that L would no doubt bruise from it.

L, having perched on the couch as always, lost his balance and tumbled off, which due to the handcuffs caused Anna to be pulled off with him. Not that Anna seemed to mind as she just used it as another opportunity to get another punch in, or she would have, if L didn’t headbutt her first and then kick her in the face, slamming her back onto the side of the couch.

“Now, that wasn’t very nice, Anna,” L said as he drew himself back up into a crouching position, far more gracefully than Anna who was stumbling her way into standing.

“You colossal ass!” Anna spat out, rubbing at her forehead and wincing, “You enjoy watching me suffer!”

“Now you know that isn’t true,” L said, and that smile was back on his lips, that same infuriating, slight smile, “Besides, you’re the one who started it, and I’ve always believed in an eye for an eye.”

“An eye for an eye?” Anna asked, barking out a sharp laugh, “You imprison me, you handcuff me to you, you let Misa go, and when I punch you, you decide that clearly I’ve wronged you and have to be kicked in the face? Tell me, Ryuzaki, where is the equality in that?”

“Naturally, if I’d gone on a yearlong murderous rampage, I’d fully expect you to imprison me as well,” L said with a shrug, and his smile a bit larger than it was before.

“And the handcuffs?!”

“Well, I suppose that depends how kinky you’re feeling.”

This time Light only just managed to stop her before she launched herself at L again, despite wanting to rip him apart himself, and even as he held her back he whispered harshly in her ear, “Stop it, Anna, he’s not worth it! He will die alone and friendless and we’ll prove him wrong and then you can spit in his face. I promise.”

Her movements slowed, stopped, and Light slowly carefully released her. She stared at L for a moment, him still staring back in amusement, and dully she said, “You, sir, are a jackass.”

Then, without even looking at him, she yanked her chained arm forward to drag the mildly amused L back to the couch where sat back down, refusing to look at any of them. And L… There was something always odd about how he considered Anna Jones, from the very beginning, and for the life of him Light could never quite read it.

A nostalgic sort of affection, one that was born out of years of close friendship, and not… Not the relationship that L and Anna shared. Not that it always showed, not truly, to the point where Light wondered if he was only imagining the softness that would sometimes linger in L’s expression.

After that the meeting wound quickly down to a close, Light went to the fridge for an ice pack, handing it to a grateful Anna and ignoring L’s accusing stare when he also didn’t receive an ice pack (which, why he would expect one from Light of all people was entirely beyond him).

So, sitting there, watching as Anna sighed and placed it over her forehead, he said, “That was good work, Anna, this will be over soon.”

“Will it?” Anna asked.

“Sure, it will, maybe in a few months or a few weeks you and I will be outside of this building and back in university. We’ll catch him, I know it.”

“You sound very confident,” Anna remarked.

“Of course, we have the greatest detective in the world on our side,” Light said, making a vauge motion to the curiously quiet L, who was just watching this interaction with those impenetrable black eyes.

“That greatest detective in the world seems to insist on me being in prison,” Anna supplied, with a rather wry expression.

“Well, then, you have me.”

“Yes,” Anna agreed, almost uncertainly as if tasting the words, “I have you.”

“What do you want to do, when this is over?” Light asked suddenly, “I still want to be a detective, you know, after graduating.”

She looked at him then, she looked at him as if he was the greatest moron she’d ever met, as if he’d just spouted out the most trivial thing he could have possibly ever said, “I have no idea.”

And he felt… Embarassed. Not just offended but embarrassed, as if he should have known she’d say that, had to say that, like she had no choice in the matter. And he hated that, hated feeling things without knowing why, hated these brief flashes of intuition that were always so very baffling.

But then, he thought about himself, and realized that he couldn’t picture it either. He could not imagine them outside of the Kira case, free of handcuffs and murder and… And he couldn’t picture any of them in the aftermath of all of this.

* * *

Ah the sweet hours of the night, past even Light’s limits, where it was L and Anna Jones alone with each other and absolutely nothing to say to one another. Well, sometimes, sometimes they did talk, granted this was usually when Anna wasn’t pissed as hell or L not obsessed with whatever he was doing.

And she was, pissed, although in retrospect she shouldn’t have been surprised since Misa had gotten the same deal the last time (with Light getting the shaft instead of Anna), but all the same it hadn’t felt so personal in the manga.

And Light, as far as she could remember, hadn’t been personally slighted by it. Maybe mildly annoyed but…

Well, he’d seemed suitably distracted by his and L’s weird bromance.

At any rate, after having gotten into her bizarre fist fight earlier, and thinking on it all day, Anna was more tired than angry, and apparently L was too, because it was one of those rare moments where they both agreed not to work and instead watched late night television while eating through L’s stores of cheesecake.

And, strangely enough, she found herself watching him more than she did the show.

He was a weird guy, but also a bit of a mystery, the anime and manga had only really covered the details they’d had to concerning his past. Much of where he’d come from, when he’d decided to become an anonymous detective, really everything, was left up to the reader’s imagination. It was Light’s story after all, and it made a point of following him more than anyone else.

And unwillingly, it’d begun to dawn on her, that L was far more complicated than she gave him credit for. Just as Light had proved to be more than the ink drawings on a page so had L. But unlike Light, she still knew basically nothing about him.

“Is there something on my face, Anna?” he asked.

She blinked, felt herself blush, and forced herself to turn her head and stammer out, “Uh, no, I just… I realized I know very little about you, despite everything that’s happened… and the handcuffs.”

“I thought you were tired of this game,” L stated, more amused than anything else, leaving Anna to be exasperated instead while L pulled this weird cryptic shit he insisted on pulling when no one else was around.

“Really?” Anna asked, eyes focused on the show, refusing to look at him, “I just… Why did you decide to become an anonymous detective?”

For a moment there was nothing, only the sound of the television, but then L said, “I suppose I never decided. It was Watari’s idea, you see, when I was very young. I’ve been a detective longer than I’ve been anything else.”

“Watari?” Anna asked, and she’d assumed, or the anime had implied but…

“He’s always had a fondness for Batman,” L said, and when she turned his eyes were practically sparkling, as if he was conveying to her a deep dark secret. Anna hadn’t realized Batman even existed in this universe.

Well, since L seemed in the answering mood, Anna pressed on despite herself, “Did you ever want to be anything else?”

“No, there was no question of being anything else, and even then… I enjoy puzzles, but also people, how they think, the mysteries they can put together. I’ve always enjoyed my work.” L said, then paused, “What about you, what do you want to do with your life?”

“Not be executed,” she responded dully, but not with as much accusation as she could have put into that, perhaps a nod to the fact that she and L had this argument daily and they both were getting kind of tired of it.

Or, at least, Anna was.

“That’s rather unambitious, what besides that?” L asked, “Would you try your hand at being L given the chance?”

“What? Jesus Christ, no,” she furiously shook her head, almost shuddered at the thought, picturing herself either playing with puppets or perching on chairs while eating chocolate bars, “No, that is the last thing I want to do. I… I don’t know, maybe do something with software or computers.”

“Really?” L asked, before pausing, considering her, and stating, “It suits you.”

“Thanks,” not that she’d put much thought into it, really still too busy thinking about not dying rather than what she wanted to do with her life.

Here he smiled, still considering her, and finally saying, “Being L wouldn’t have, you would have hated it.”

“Good thing that was never an option,” Anna responded with a rather wry smile of her own. Although, to be fair, she was better at this than she would have thought she’d be. Not that it was easy either, or didn’t give her near constant headaches.

He held up his fork to her face, as if it was a hand to stop her line of thought, and said, “Ah, a bit too quick there, should I die… If Kira kills me, then I’d like to pass my title onto you.”

And whatever good contented feeling she had promptly flew out the window as L dropped his latest bombshell into the conversation.

Anna almost dropped her plate of cheesecake, “Are you serious?!”

“Perfectly, you have always been my successor, Anna.” 

And here she thought Light’s odd amnesiac speeches every now and then were the weirdest and dumbest things she’d heard in her life, “Oh, come on, Ryuzaki, look at me.”

She motioned to herself, to her thin frame, her youthful girl’s body, “Do I look like an L to you?”

“Yes,” he said it without an ounce of hesitation, and she slowly realized that he really wasn’t joking, he was somehow being perfectly serious, “If I die, then the position is yours, and no one else’s.”

“You think I’m Kira!” she cried out, “You’re going to let Kira just sabotage the investigation on your behalf?!”

“You won’t,” L said, looking more amused than anything else, and whether this was a big sign of him thinking she wasn’t actually Kira or not was beyond her understanding. Actually, there was a thought she was too tired to deal with, was this just  a weird ruse to unnerve her?

At any rate, she held up a hand, stopping him from saying anything else while she just tried to make sense out of this (even if there was no sense to be had).

“What about…” she stopped, paused, forced herself not to talk about Wammys and Near and Mello who were supposed to succeed him, or even Naomi Misora who L had briefly brought up the other night, “What about Light? He actually wants this, to be this, and he’s good at it…”

The fact that he was the real Kira, and would drive the investigation into the ground, perhaps wasn’t even worth mentioning. Hell, L had picked him before, and granted Anna had never understood that decision but…

“This has nothing to do with Light Yagami, or whoever else Watari has seen fit to inherit my title in the event of my untimely death, it’s just between us.” L stated, rather calmly all things considered, especially since they were talking about his murder.

“The task force won’t take that, you know, they’ve never liked me, they sure as hell don’t respect me. And you expect Watari to go along with this?” Anna said, “You’d better hope to god you don’t die because then we’ll have a mutiny on our hands.”

“If I die then Kira will have won, regardless of who they throw at him next, and you’ll have been proven right.” L said, “Granted, I’d much rather it not come to that but… All the same, in that situation, it would be a new world altogether, and you would be the only person I could count on to keep an eye on it for me.”

Anna groaned, rubbing at her forehead, “Ryuzaki, we’ve got to stop having this weird cryptic bullshit discussions in the middle of the night. And besides, don’t you have some faith in… whoever could possibly succeed you?”

L gave her a rather dull look and a flat, “No, I don’t.”

To be fair, picturing Near and Mello, they had gotten absurdly lucky at the end there.

“Well, let’s just hope you don’t die, and I don’t have to deal with that, alright?” Anna asked, and L nodded back at her, silently returning to watching the television. And she just…

L’s death, it had once been something she would have liked to prevent, and even still she would prefer Light not to kill him but… But if Light had somehow gotten the notebook to her in that prison cell, when she was shaking and in and out of reality with nothing but her stubborn pride to cling to, then she had no doubt that L would be dead already.

Some part of her, despite these new quiet moments of comradery, despite L thinking of her as a friend and successor, would always loathe him.


	25. Chapter 25

_“This is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but with a silencer.”_

* * *

“It’s raining today,” Light said to himself, as he stepped out the front door and looked up at the gray sky beneath the fringe of his umbrella, and the rain coming down in sheets, “What a pain.”

Still, there was no real helping it, even if his pants, socks, shoes, and probably even his jacket were about to be soaked through. It was the sort of day that made him wish that he knew how to drive, and, with that, owned a car.

Of course, he could always ride in with his father he supposed, but then Light often needed this time to think to himself and he thought his father understood that, or at least, understood part of it. Things had become strained between them in the past year, and Light didn’t know whether it was the Kira case, Anna Jones, or something else entirely that was the cause.

Everything had become strained in this past year.

Narrowly avoiding stepping in a puddle, he frowned to himself, even as he passed giggling high school girls on their way to school, and he found himself once again reminiscing over this past year of his life, and, how little he remembered of it.

Well, that wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t that he didn’t remember but rather that it was all disjointed and somewhat blurry, events just happening to happen, with no real reason behind them.

So, it wasn’t the memories he was thinking about, rather, as Light caught his own reflection in shop windows and made his way through the heavy throng of pedestrians, he looked at his wide eyed, young, so terribly young, self-staring back, and wondered if he could possibly be staring at the face of Kira.

Or, putting it more succinctly, if Light Yagami, wasn’t in fact, the Kira that they were all so desperately looking for.

The face in the window broke into a disbelieving, almost amused smile, Light shaking his head and shaking the thoughts off. What an absurd idea, Light Yagami, Kira. He’d remember something that important, and besides, Light would never…

Well, that was just it, Light thought as he turned yet another corner, on the street now that would lead him to the headquarters building, if you looked at it from a distance, if Light thought of himself as something other than Light Yagami, then it was entirely possible.

Best in his class, brightest student in all of Japan, an aspiring detective with a strong sense of righteousness and justice, one who had openly professed to believing criminal sentences were too lenient in those truly heinous cases, competitive perhaps even to a fault in some circumstances…

It was horrifyingly possible, if you put it like that, but all the same Light couldn’t… He wouldn’t believe that of himself.

Even if L himself apparently did.

With that thought he sighed, continued walking until he was on the steps to the tower itself, and just as he was about to step inside and shake off his umbrella there was the person he least wanted to see in the world.

“Light!”

Misa, even in the pouring rain, threw her arms around him, and god, she smelled like overpriced perfume from a department store and he could practically feel the lipstick clinging to his cheek as her lips moved against his skin.

“Oh, Misa,” Light said his hands trying and failing to pry her away, “How have you been? Ryuzaki said you’d started work again.”

She drew back and grinned at him, brown eyes seeming to almost sparkle even in the poor lighting the rain provided.

“Sorry, Light,” Matsuda said underneath his own umbrella, “We uh, didn’t see you here until…”

“It’s fine,” Light said, cutting him off, when really it was anything but fine.

If Light had any nerve, any courage at all, he’d stop stringing her along like this. He’d bluntly end it here and now making it abundantly clear that he would never be interested and never had once been interested.

(Except, why had he avoided it? True, he didn’t seek Misa out, hated the idea of giving her encouragement, but he could have been far clearer, and it was dangerous to string this woman along but… But some part of him just couldn’t let her go for reasons he couldn’t even bring himself to understand.)

“Oh, Misa’s so relieved to be back modeling, Light wouldn’t believe it,” Misa said before pouting and adding, “I still hate that I have to come here every day though. It’d be nice if Ryuzaki would just give up since he’s not even getting anywhere.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Light said with a strained, too strained, smile, “We’re trying our best. It’s not our fault that it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Oh, Misa didn’t mean to insult Light,” Misa said, looking genuinely offended, “I’ve always believed in Light!”

“Oh, well, thank you Misa,” Light said, “But there are plenty of others working on the case too. It’s not just me.”

“And Misa bets you’re going to get a big break real soon,” Misa said with an overexaggerated wink and equally overexaggerated smile, “She’s certain of it.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you, Misa,” Light offered, his own smile on the verge of breaking it was so strained and polite, “We could use one.”

“Things will get better,” Misa added, and then, patting him on the cheek, “And then you and I will go on dates again and we can bid this awful building goodbye!”

It was very difficult to avoid shuddering in that moment, as it is, Light simply said, somehow ground it out, “Well, remember, Misa, that I’m dating Anna…”

And she… She looked at him almost in pity then, or with a sly understanding, that Light too would understand the joke soon enough but for now it would forever be lost upon him. Misa smiled, kissed him on the cheek, and said, “Misa understands now, don’t worry, I’m not insulted.”

“Uh, Misa, we should really get…” Matsuda started only to be interrupted by Misa herself.

“Wait a minute, I barely get to see Light at all!” she chastised before turning back to Light, “I’ve got to go now, but just remember what I said Light, Misa’s always cheering you on!”

And with that she was sliding underneath Matsuda’s umbrella, the pair of them walking to Matsuda’s car parked further down the street, Misa with her nose stuck in the air and Matsuda haplessly trailing behind. Something that should have been humorous but…

He was haunted, suddenly, by images of his date with her many months ago, of that ever-present sense of blackmail as he held her hand and humored her and a rage he couldn’t ever have remembered feeling in his life, and he shuddered at the sight of her walking away.

But, standing here in the rain, alone, watching the car drive away, why had he put up with it? What information did she have that he had so desperately needed, was it just the threats to his family? Why not go to his father then? No, there was some unseen thread entangling him and Misa together… And Anna Jones as well.

And the more he thought about it, silently standing there, the more it seemed that thread was named Kira.

Even if, standing here right now, tired, wet, and so cold, he’d choose to be anything in the world but Kira.

He walked into the building wordlessly, deposited his umbrella in a stand, took off his shoes and felt the unpleasant squelch of his cold and soaking socks against the carpet. Then, making his way to his usual seat, across from Anna with L on her other side, her looking completely and utterly drained even as L went on as usual, he wondered if maybe he should try thinking about it from her pragmatic turn of thought.

Suppose, for whatever reason, Light Yagami was Kira, and he just didn’t remember it right now. What then?

Turning to look at her, considering her tangled red hair, overgrown and still growing, the dark bags beneath her pale eyes, the utter look of boredom and exhaustion written on her pale features, he asked himself if he would turn himself in, in her place?

No.

What good would it do? It wouldn’t free her, no, that wouldn’t be good enough for L, they would both go down on that sinking ship. And besides, it wasn’t as if the current Light, the Light he was right now, would learn from the entirely hypothetical past Light’s crimes, because frankly, Light had no real idea what would drive him to become Kira when you got down to the heart of it.

What would turn a normal, ambitious, high-school student into the most terrible serial killer the world had ever seen?

Put like that, it was just as ridiculous as the thought of Anna Jones being Kira, there was nothing to move him towards that, nothing in the world, even if he’d been given the opportunity he never would have…

(And there, bubbling to the surface of his thoughts, unsummoned and unwanted, were memories of the crippling ennui as he stared out the window in high school, and thought about how worthless and rotten this world truly was.)

“Thinking deep thoughts?”

Light jerked, met Anna Jones raised eyebrows, and tried to jolt himself into a reasonable and sane state of mind. What was he even doing?

“Well, no, I was thinking how uncomfortable wet socks are,” Light offered sheepishly.

“Oh, right, the rain,” Anna said before her eyes narrowed, “Wait, you were seriously thinking about how you hate wet socks.”

“It’s not pleasant,” Light groused, trying to will his feet into some dry and warm state, now there was a super power he could get behind…

“Light,” Anna held up a hand, “That’s almost worthy of ‘I hate sand, because it’s sandy’.”

“What?”

Anna then straightened herself up, gave him a look, and quoted (she must be quoting one of her stupid American things that wasn’t really American again), “I don’t like sand. It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. Not like here. Here everything is soft and smooth.”

Light blinked, blinked again, found L actually shifting from his work to stare dumbly along with Light at the unpredictable Anna Jones.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means, Light,” Anna said, “That, ‘I don’t like wet socks. They’re cold and wet and irritating and they get everywhere. Not like here. Here everything is warm and… not wet.’ And that really, I never would have expected Light to be spending his day thinking about wet socks.”

“And what do you think about?”

She motioned to herself, “I am not on par with the brilliant Light Yagami, I can think about whatever I want, I don’t have standards.”

“I don’t always have standards,” Light responded, trying and failing to keep the smile from his face, “Sometimes, I really am just an ordinary man thinking ordinary thoughts.”

“Oh, well now you’re practically quoting Henry Higgins,” Anna said before quoting once again this time trying and failing to affect a British accent, “Well after all, Pickering, I’m an ordinary man, who desires nothing more than just an ordinary chance to live exactly as he likes and do precisely what he wants. An average man am I, of no eccentric whim, who likes to live his life free of strife, doing whatever he thinks is best for him.”

Anna Jones stopped with a hand motion, cutting herself off, then explaining, “And here of course, Higgins goes off bemoaning the dangers of ever letting a woman ruin his bachelorhood. But that’s all beside the point.”

“You, Light,” Anna waved a hand towards him, “Are anything besides ordinary.”

Well, perhaps she had a point in that, but from her, it somehow didn’t seem so terrible as it had only a half hour before.

“You know,” Light said, “The deadline for university is coming back up… I think I might have to take the semester off.”

Think, no, he knew. Already the deadline was hard approaching for him, and true he could attend a week and withdraw during that time period, or withdraw at any point during the semester but…

“The great Light Yagami, taking time off? What is the world coming to?”

“The end of times, clearly,” L added to Anna’s quip, only to be steadily ignored by both Light and Anna, and Light hoped that something in him burned for that.

“The great Light Yagami has never found himself in quite this kind of situation before,” Light answered back, “And perhaps, school can wait another semester.”

There must have been something in the way he said it, something in his self-deprecating smile, that caused her to laugh. Tilt her head back and laugh in a way that he’d so rarely seen her do and coveted every time he had ever seen it.

And watching her here and now, wishing to bask in this present moment, he couldn’t help but think that… That he knew so very little about her.

And, eyes drifting over her shoulder to meet L’s black gaze, he wondered what a man like L possibly thought he could know about her in Light’s stead. There was some connection between them, between the unknowable past of Anna Jones and L’s, something tucked neatly out of Light’s sight.

No, more than that, something that couldn’t possibly exist. Anna Jones, L had said it himself, she wasn’t a real person, but then, she wasn’t really anything beneath this façade either. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did, that she was always a stranger in a strange land and that Anna Jones was the only thing that she really had. No one, not even L, not even Light for that matter, could know more than that.

More, they didn’t act like it, rather, L acted like there was this unbreakable connection between them, but Anna Jones acted like she had no idea what the hell he was on about.

“Hey, Light, is there something on my face?”

“Hm, what, no, sorry,” Light said, jerking his head away and blushing, not meaning to have stared that long.

So, what was it?

Where did L think he knew her from?

Succession, L kept bringing it up, or rather, had brought it up at that very strange time and brought Anna Jones up along with it, like the pair were supposed to be connected in some manner that Light just couldn’t see. No, not that he couldn’t see, that he couldn’t believe.

First off, the idea that L, that this ridiculous position of anonymous detective, had successors was absurd.

But that Anna Jones, divine catspaw and jester, was somehow L’s successor?

“Uh, Light? Why are you breaking into hysterical laughter?”

He covered his mouth, tried to stop it, even as everyone was staring, his father, Anna Jones, L, everyone he had admired and respected for so long looking at him like a lunatic. But how was he supposed to explain, why, why he was so very convinced, that if Anna Jones became L, if L was an idiot enough to make her L, then the game was over, with Kira the clear and undefeated winner.

And why this seemed so desperately funny to him.

* * *

There were many ways Anna could envision spending an idle afternoon, scrolling through profiles of all certified lawyers in Tokyo, then the greater Kanto region, was not one of them. Good god, she didn’t think she was that racist, but all the faces were starting to blur together after the first hour or so.

And she was still going.

And this was after having gone through the policemen (who, honestly, they’d kind of gone through rather quickly), the then the judges (who at least were fewer in number), but now the lawyers, good god, the lawyers.

Well, ambulance chaser Kira probably was not, that screamed more of Higuchi… Although, if the person died, it would be hard to sue anyone over it, so that probably wasn’t in the hypothetical Kira lawyer’s best interest.

Well then, someone who took his job seriously, unfortunately, given Anna Jones battle against illiteracy, this was hard divined from the profiles (although she was miles better from not having been able to read anything at all, so she had to give herself some credit.)

Glancing up she caught the eye of Light, also morosely scrolling through pages (though his, at least, were of small time criminals), dark eyebrows raised at her glance. Morose, that was a good word for it, he’d been morose for a while, apparently the Kira case blues were contagious. That, or, trying to keep up with L’s sleep cycle was also driving him into illness.

Which was entirely possible, as half the time she felt like crawling into a hole to die.

They both sighed, and forced their eyes to focus back on their own individual screens, just willing the day to end or some epiphany to be found. How did L do it? He was sitting over there, typing like a maniac, eating cheesecake again, and there was just nothing left inside of her.

Nothing at all.

The rest of the task force was diligently doing something at their own work stations, reviewing their own comrades in the police department if she remembered correctly, well, except for Matsuda, the poor bastard. He’d only just walked in with Misa hanging off his arm, staring out with the thousand-mile stare, stumbling off somewhere saying he needed a break and would be back in a little while.

She hardly blamed him, if Anna was on babysitting Misa duty she’d probably be feeling much the same way. And, given Light’s barely suppressed shudder, he was feeling even more sympathy than that.

“Oh, heyo, look who we have here,” she muttered to herself, because there, staring back at her with cold brown eyes behind vaguely trendy glasses and a purple suit, was none other than Teru Mikami.

Looks like he’d passed the bar exam, or Japanese Death Note’s whatever version of the bar exam, five years even before he entered the picture in canon. He looked… Not too much younger, but young enough, still with the same vaguely Light-kike but if Light grew out his hair, hair… Practicing law though, as a junior partner (well, as far as she could tell from the kanji), in an office here in Tokyo.

She found her eyes lingering on him, on this blast from the… Well, not the past, the future would perhaps be more accurate.

And for an absurd moment, she found herself staring a little harder.

No, it was too obvious. There was no way, the universe didn’t… But then, the universe did work like that, or at least, it did for Anna Jones. Everything conveniently or inconveniently worked against her, everything in Anna Jones’ mockery of a life was too damn obvious for comfort.

She’d been treating this like a real case, like this was the real world, where Kira could and maybe should, be anyone. But in a story, in whatever grand play her bastard of a god directed… Well, if Anna was them, why, she’d choose Mikami.

Her eyes darted to Light, quickly, almost imperceptibly, then back to the screen.

No, there was no way, because at the end of things there was no way in hell Light would have chosen Mikami of all people. Light would choose anyone but Mikami, he’d choose someone he could catch, someone who’d make stupid mistakes really quickly and let L and Light close in. Maybe someone who’d do the Kira thing as necessary, but really, someone who looked out enough for their own gain that they’d mess up.

Well, if she was being honest, it was Rem who had chosen Higuchi (or as far as Anna remembered at any rate), but that was beside the point, choosing Mikami over Higuchi wouldn’t help Light…

And it was at that moment that Anna Jones suffered two great epiphanies.

The first, was not so much an epiphany, as it was a vision of what must have been. There she was, an unseen spectator, watching Light, Ryuk, and Rem in a forest and Light switching notebooks between them. Light, always carefully considering, even now, Ryuk cackling madly, and Rem’s wary and desperate eye as Misa’s life hung in the balance.

And here, Light would have said, give this to someone who can be caught, and eventually Rem would take it to Higuchi.

But this wasn’t… Light, even when Kira, was no longer the Kira of the original Death Note. Or rather, he was, almost but… But he had Anna Jones, a friend, an advisor, and maybe as much as neither of them would admit it there was a bond that tied them together. More than his need to save Misa’s life and preserve his own, more than his need to dispose of L and for her or Misa to do it for him, and maybe more even than her outdated and mostly useless information… And he must have recognized that, even if it was only for a moment.

And more, he must have taken all the advice she had ever given him to heart, in that single damning moment.

He chose to pass the notebook into the custody of someone who believed in Kira, who would carry on his legacy as he intended, rather than someone who would kill corporate pawns for their own ends. Rather than choose the man who would be more easily caught he chose the man who would live to Light’s ideals.

Better, to trust in his own instincts to regain the notebook, than to gamble with the lives of the innocent but forgotten people.

And so, maybe Light researched, or maybe Rem somehow found the right man through mere observation, but either way instead of reaching Higuchi the notebook came into the hands of Teru Mikami.

And, here she looked up to the entry way to the room, to what must be Matsuda’s dark shadow stretching outside and onto the blue tiled floor, Teru Mikami would not hesitate for a single second to gain the Shinigami eyes.

Anna dove to the floor pulling Light down with her, even as Matsuda’s shoe stepped into sight. Before even hitting the floor there were six shots, each in succession with not even a second between them, then the sound of reloading. (And, wasn’t it funny? There were six members of the task force, or five, or was it six? Either way did he really must manage to get them all at once?!)

At the sound of footsteps, she forced herself to move out of her daze, to dart behind a couch, flinching at the sound of something sharp and fast whizzing far too close to her head. Peeking around a corner she caught sight of someone’s… Mogi or Aizawa’s… body lying sprawled on the floor, gun strapped to his hip.

(Although, Jesus, she thought to herself, what are you going to do with a gun? Do you even know how to turn off the safety?)

She glanced back over her other shoulder and caught sight of L and Light, both appearing to be in some kind of shock, still sitting there like idiots while Matsuda stalked closer. At another sound of Matsuda’s footstep, like some dread death knell, Light cried out, “Matsuda!”

And in desperation, darted forward and tacked his knees, throwing him off balance and toppling Matsuda to the ground, trying to pin his arms down and wrestle the gun out of his hands. Matsuda, however, seemed entirely indifferent to Light, and instead, peering over Light’s shoulder and shoving his face out of the way, shot with his pinned hand, and got L right in the shin.

Then, headbutting Light, rolling to his feet, even as L cried out and attempted to limp towards Anna and behind the couch, there was a great bang and then a bullet in L’s head.

And for a moment L’s eyes were perfectly empty, even as he stared at her, his momentum still moving him towards her and then…

Then L, just like that, was dead.

Glancing up from the blood, from L, she spared one final look for Light Yagami and the unadulterated horror and fear in his expression even as he rolled to his feet and tried once again to tackle Matsuda to the ground.

And everything, for that single moment, seemed to slow. Light moved towards Matsuda, Matsuda aimed the barrel of the gun at her head, and Anna Jones just stared back even as he swayed, like a reed in the wind, under the force of Light’s weight.

And his bullet…

The bullet came.


	26. Chapter 26

Once again, somewhere, somehow, there was the sound of fingers typing against the keys of a computer’s keyboard.

She jolted into consciousness with a gasp, breathing in and shuddering, hands shaking as she looked down at them covered… Covered in blood, tenderly, she reached up to her own forehead where blood trickled down, out of the hole that the bullet had left behind.

Slowly, too slowly, she let her fingers fall and she stared out at her surroundings, a great white space with nothing inside it, then, looking over her shoulder…

A doppelganger, none other than Anna Jones, a younger less tried Anna Jones who had yet to be imprisoned, sitting in a chair, a laptop in front of her, staring down at her other, bleeding, self in condemnation.

The doppelganger, suddenly, sighed in aggravation, and declared without context, “And it was going so well too, you just had to ruin it, didn’t you?”

“I…”

“Don’t get up,” the other Anna Jones stated, and then with an incline of her head another chair appeared, the bleeding Anna Jones sitting inside of it, even as she tried to put pressure on the wound in her head, stopping the warm blood from oozing out of it.

Oh god, the blood oozing out of it…

“What happened?”

The other Anna Jones blinked and looked somewhat alarmed by the question, “What happened? You were shot in the head, what do you think happened?”

“I was…”

The other interjected, talked right over her, “Shot right between the eyes by Matsuda along with everyone else, L included, and the whole story’s ruined because of it.”

A vague hand motion was waved, as if scrapping this, Anna Jones, her bullet, Matsuda, the story, “Actually, the whole story has been going downhill for a while. If you had just played your part properly then we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

Whether it was because there was a bullet in her head, and she was somehow alive and thinking even with the bullet, or was dead and thinking, but she found it hard to follow what was being said. She felt like she was on the verge of coming to some important, necessary, conclusion but she just couldn’t do it…

Where was Light, she couldn’t help but wonder. Where was L and Light and anyone? Why was she… Why was she here by herself, and more importantly…

“What are you talking about?”

Her doppelganger pointed towards her with a pale accusing finger.

“You, Anna Jones, fictional character created by me,” the other Anna Jones explained, motioning to her then back to herself again, looking completely upset, far more upset than Anna Jones herself, “And I had so many great arcs planned, oh we were going to explore your past as L’s successor at Wammy’s, we had to meet Mello, Near, and Matt still, Light had to rehabilitated… And now look where we are now! It’s a damned travesty!”

“You,” she said slowly, the thought dawning on her, that somehow face to face with herself she was really face to face with something far worse, “You’re the god, you’re the…”

“I’m the author,” the other Anna Jones corrected, in a strangely smug sort of tone as if she took this role far too seriously, “You’re, well, me in fanfiction, except you’re doing it all wrong!”

“No, no I’m not…”

The other Anna, the author, didn’t seem to have any patience for this, “Yes, you are, honestly, is it even that much of a surprise? Why am I even arguing with you? Anyways, I just thought I should let you know that it’s done, it’s over, I’m not writing this anymore.”

“Not…”

The author didn’t even seem to pay attention, continuing, “I am moving onto greener pastures, have a good LxLight fic in the works, may get into LotR territory, I have a great idea for an SIxLegolas fic in there that I’ve just been dying to try out…”

“What are you talking about?!” Anna screamed, the words echoing in this empty white space, but god, the author, just looked at her somewhat blankly.

“You’re not real, and honestly, I’m kind of tired of you,” the author explained, and her face it was so, so indifferent, “People have been flaming me left and right, they say that you’re a Mary Sue, and I know you’re not, you’re sassy and afraid of Light, but that just gets to me. I mean, not many authors stick the SI with Light first, I haven’t seen that around! That’s not a Sue thing to do! And I really wanted a LightxSI and LxSI love triangle, and it was going so well, but then you didn’t go and play your part! But I didn’t want to leave anything unfinished either, and even though I hate it, it’s really the only way to end it…”

“I’m… I’m not…” she trailed off, unable to complete that thought, tears gathering at her eyes and mixing with the blood running down her face.

She had always wondered, in her darker moments, if she was real or not. Somehow, she’d forgotten those thoughts though, moved past them, but oh, oh it was like a knife through her heart to hear them, to hear that they had gotten tired of her and that everything, everything she was and had been through was nothing more than… Than goddamned fanfiction!

“So, I went through all of this, all this…” she motioned down to the blood covering her, a crazed grin on her face, “Because you got tired of me? Do I… Do I even have a name other than Anna Jones?”

Did she… Did this god even realize what prison had meant? What facing her death, on two occasions, had felt like? Did she even realize the horror of realizing that you had no name? That you were a shadow of your own existence?!

“Sure, you do,” the author answered, “We just hadn’t gotten to that part of the story yet.”

Well, Anna didn’t know what it was, whatever it was it… She’d always known there was some other name, but had she ever thought about it or where she came from? She’d always thought, “Thank god he doesn’t know my name” and then had been afraid when Misa had seen her but… But had she ever whispered to herself or thought of it at all?

Had she ever thought about her family?

She closed her eyes, squeezed them shut, willed herself to move past this, past this and onto everything else her author and god had just told her, “And a love triangle?! How could you ever think that I could ever… With either of them, god, I can’t… And Matsuda shot us because…”

“Well, Matsuda was being controlled by Mikami, it’ll all make sense,” the author said with a nod, “I think it’s a beautifully tragic ending, you know, for what it’s worth.”

“But… But that’s not how the notebook works!” Anna cried out, grasping at something, anything, feeling desperation burning against her throat, “You can’t control the death of another person through someone else! Otherwise Light could have killed off L ages ago…”

“Well, Misa knows all the policemen’s names, and she could have gotten the eyes again and looked at you and L, and I don’t have to justify myself to you!” the author, indeed, didn’t seem to care about this at all, had never seemed to care about bending the rules of Anna Jones’ reality, this strange alternate universe of Death Note that didn’t even bother to play by Death Note’s rules.

A world that was now… That was now somehow ending.

“What… What will happen to me, to Light, to everyone?”

“I don’t know,” the author said raising her hands, no Anna Jones’ hands, because this might not even be what the author looked like, “I don’t care anymore either, maybe this will teach the flamers not to flame, I think I might even remove the story, that’ll show all of them…”

“But, where will we go?” Anna continued, what was death for a fictional character, what about the world itself, would it just stop? Just like that.

“I don’t think you go anywhere,” the author said, “Like I said, if you have a problem with it then you should have been a better character.”

You should have been better, but what was she, was there anything real to her at all? If this was her world, if this was the truth, if she dared to accept this then… Then what was Anna Jones even?

Anna stopped, shook her head almost desperately, motioning down to herself then back at the author as the bitter truth of her existence seeped in, “But I’m your character… I don’t… I don’t have free will, everything I’ve done must have come from you, so if you want me to do something then…”

“That’s not how it works,” the author sighed again looking rather put upon as she explained, “At least, that’s not how I write. Maybe everyone else writes like that, but I don’t really know.”

“What are you talking about?!” Anna cried, tearing at her hair, leaning forward, trying desperately to understand, to force the truth of her existence down her own throat, a bitterness she couldn’t even deny because god it did make sense, “You’ve scripted all of us you can make it…”

The author held up a hand, stopping Anna Jones before she could even start.

“Look, it’s like, you have an idea for a scene, like say I want you and L to cuddle, so I put you and L in a room, and I say, well Anna Jones and L, talk to each other, play coy about Anna Jones’ secret past,” the author, she looked… It was like looking in a mirror, as Anna Jones explained something, the hand gestures were all the same, the spark in those blue eyes, the slight rise in voice as she became excited on a topic.

Anna felt bile rise in her nonexistent throat.

“And I have an idea of what you guys say to each other, what I want you to say to each other, but sometimes, when writing, it’s clear that you won’t say that to each other. The scene has to flow, the dialogue has to flow, and sometimes you end up with a scene you don’t want at all. It’s like… It’s like method acting, you throw these ideas of people together, and sometimes they don’t do what you think they should do. Sometimes, you and L don’t cuddle or be fluffy or do anything, even though, oh it’s all fine with Light, you love to cuddle with Light!”

Oh, oh that was too far, because now she looked back and could see it, could see these contrived Yotsuba arc scenes of her and Light and L all alone, and how she and Light gravitated towards each other, and how a wall always seemed erected between her and L…

More, that moment, when he’d told her that she was his only successor, was that a moment where she was supposed to lean forward and kiss him? Was that a moment where she should have somehow seen past everything he was and be truly touched?

But how could she have been? Even now, when she thought about him, she looked at him and she hated him. She hated everything he stood for, everything he was, she looked at him and she loathed him in a way that still frightened her. How could she look at him and see anything but those cold black heartless eyes?

Still, was every situation she’d ever been in, just a contrived means to throw either her and Light or her and L together?

And what of her, then? What was she then in all of this? The smartest exchange student Japan had ever seen, fluent, someone with equal deductive abilities to L and Light…

Of course, of course she had never been real in the first place. What other explanation could there possibly be for something as absurd as that? How had she never realized it even as she’d discussed philosophy with Light, about his own fictional existence, how had she ever considered herself different from him?!

How could she have so much hubris…

“Anyways, I wanted to write an LxSI and LightxSI fic, and it just isn’t working out, and I’m frustrated and I’ve decided to move on,” the author said, “So, this is it, it’s over, finished, and I’m going to go think about Legolas for a while and how romantic elves are and how a normal sassy girl will go about it in Middle Earth, joining the fellowship and being friends with everyone…”

Anna Jones barked out a laugh, wondering, for an absurd moment, if that was what she herself was supposed to be. If she was everything she had always hated… Would it be another Anna Jones in this Lord of the Rings fanfiction this fickle and indifferent god created? Would it be her? Would that Anna Jones even realize…

She felt her voice catch in her throat, a jerking tearing sound, leaning forward tears began to fall down her face, the author indifferent and typing as her work of fiction curled in on herself, thinking of everything that had happened, to herself, to Light, and even to L.

All that suffering, and the world, ending, just like that. Even if she was fake, no, because she was fake. If the story ended, if it ended because of her, then she held the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Anna Jones, in whatever capacity was available to her, had destroyed the world…

And she just kept seeing Light’s face, his horrified face in those last moments as he’d looked across from her and she’d looked back at him, knowing even then that she wasn’t going to make it, that she was going to join L on the floor and…

“I don’t…” Anna stopped, closed her eyes, daring herself to say the words, “I don’t want to die, I don’t want the world to end, I don’t want… Please, I’ll do it, I’ll do whatever.”

The author looked up, questioning, looking honestly a bit confused, like she had no idea what her creation could possibly be asking about, “You’ll do what?”

Anna swallowed, forcing it down her ragged throat, then forcing the words to come out, “I’ll… I’ll date Light, I’ll date L, I will fuck either of them, both of them, at the same goddamn time if that’s what you want. Just… undo this, please, if you’re the author, if you’re god then rewrite it and I’ll…”

It wasn’t prostitution, even if it wreaked of it, even if the very idea, with either of them, even with Light, Light who was the closest to her at the end of things, the only one close to her… No, no, prison had taught her that much, Light had taught her that much.

You did what you had to.

And if this, if this is what she really was, if this was what she was forced to accept, perhaps her own acceptance deemed by this author who thought it should be such an easy concept for a person to accept, then she had to do it.

For everyone’s sake.

“Rewrite it?” the author asked, orange eyebrows raising to her hairline, a truly surreal sight that at any other moment would have had Anna Jones balking, “No, no, we’re way too far in and I don’t want to…”

“Please! I’ll do it, I promise I’ll do it!” she pleaded, because at least it seemed to be a possibility, and if it was a possibility it was one she would take, god would she take it, “And I’ll, if you let me remember this, then I’ll do it, just, rewrite it, to wherever you want just… Keep us alive, please.”

The author hissed out a sigh, “Well, I suppose it doesn’t hurt… I can always just write my SIxLegolas fic at the same time… But I’m only rewriting the Yotsuba arc, it was fine before that point, I think.”

“Fine, yes fine, that’s fine!” she assured, not even caring at this point, just so long as it wasn’t that end, just so long as it wasn’t Matsuda’s dulled eyes and a gun in his hand, “I’ll, I’ll do it better, this time, just… Just tell me what to do and I… I’ll do it.”

“But if I start getting flamed again then I’m taking the story down immediately!” the author exclaimed, “I do have better things to do with my time, you know.”

Like, apparently, Legolas shacking it up with some poor mortal fool from another dimension. But that was fine, if this was her reality, if this was the world she lived in, then by god she would accept it. She would accept it and she’d move on and she’d do whatever she had to do.

She’d think and scream and curse about the implications later.

But for now, for herself, for Light, she’d do what she had to.

“That’s… That’s fine, I’ll be better, I promise,” she said, and that seemed to be enough, because as she squeezed her eyes shut she felt the air around her shift, grow colder, her clothing change and the blood disappearing from her forehead, her body tied against a board.

Then light, the blindfold was taken off, her restraints were removed and she stumbled forward, limbs weak, shoved forward by some unknown person whose footsteps haunted her memory, Watari, then, at the end of the hallway, pushed through and strapped onto a table, and her heart thudding a staccato in her chest.

And then, there, Light’s voice, “Anna.”

And as his face drifted into blurred view, with a pained, grim, smile, she began to sob.

“Light, thank god, Light.”


	27. Chapter 27

_“It’s almost relieving, in a way, to know what your limits are. Not quite as inspirational as books or movies make it appear, but when you endure, when you survive, and when you get out of it you can look in the mirror and tell yourself that you made it through it. You now know you can do it again, if you have to. The only troubling, lingering, thought is that you now know you might have to.”_

* * *

She didn’t think she’d ever been so happy to see someone in her life.

He looked tired, as tired as she felt, because suddenly she was exhausted. Of course, she’d been exhausted for some time now, it felt like forever, but her muscles were weak in a way that they hadn’t been since…

She was strapped to a table, head aimed towards a white ceiling, heart beating too fast in her chest.

She blinked, everything was bright and blurry and painful, and her eyes were filled with tears. However, there wasn’t a bullet in her head and… And she was in prison, she was still in prison, she’d just been tied to a post for two months bleeding in and out of reality.

Light was frowning at her, grim, seemingly indifferent to the tears coursing down her face and her own labored breathing.

Oh god, it was all in her head.

She’d slipped out one day and gone and daydreamed the Yotsuba arc, that she’d gotten shot in the head by Matsuda of all people, and then met her own fickle and indifferent doppelganger and discovered that Anna Jones never existed in the first place and now here she was experiencing some alarming déjâ-vu, as she was strapped to the table she was last time where Light had informed her that she had been granted the death penalty by L for nothing less than being Kira himself.

If she wasn’t already crying then she’d want to cry, as it was she tried to hold in a desperate wavering smile, to retain her dignity or at least some semblance of sanity as L judged her from behind some goddamn camera.

Because of course her complete mental breakdown would be another point in the Kira category.

Only, she stopped, paused, some terrible realization slinking through her even as she lay there.

What was her name again?

Behind Anna Jones there was the idea of a name, the idea that she definitely had one and Misa had at one point definitely seen it, but… But it cast a small and shallow shadow.

“Oh, shit,” she exclaimed unable to help herself.

“Anna,” Light said, standing over her like some grim reaper, like her own personal executioner.

Except, no, no, this was a Light pretending to be her executioner and it was written all over his face. Light, were he to kill her, would have never looked like this, she should have known it then, maybe she had, it was hard to remember.

What was the point of remembering? Apparently, she wasn’t even a real person. She was just… She didn’t even know what, a really, really, shitty approximation of a human being. The highest test scorer in Japan, ladies and gentlemen, on par with the great Light Yagami and L.

Of course, she didn’t feel like that right now, no, she felt anything but fictional.

And surely that counted for something?

Well, it must have, because she’d begged to come back, come back to this moment and…

“Why did you do it?” Light’s voice interrupted her, she blinked, confused, and really blanking on the context.

Unless… No, he couldn’t be in the know, she was just in the know, and he’d know perfectly well why she’d agreed to… Holy shit, she’d prostituted herself out to L. Well, L and Light, and was it terrible that Light was the preferable option there?

Yes, she would rather sleep with Light than L… Did that make her shallow? Did she have the capability of being shallow? That didn’t seem very in character for her, or, well, what she assumed she was supposed to be given the doppelganger rant.

Unless, unless she was hallucinating right now, or in hell. Yes, this might be hell, that made a lot more sense. She’d been shot in the head by Matsuda and was now rotting in hell. And hell was being strapped to a table with Light staring over her… No, wait, L would definitely be in hell.

Also, Matsuda shooting her in the head still didn’t make much sense without divine intervention.

“Anna!”

“Sorry, thinking!” Anna blurted, trying to remember what he’d just said and failing miserably, “Could you, um, repeat what you last said?”

Light looked at her with utter dismay, his voice cracking on the words as he choked out, “Why did you do it?!”

Oh, right, well, what the hell was she supposed to say to that?

“Do what?”

“Kira, Anna!” He looked, it was hard to tell, everything was still blurry, but he looked like he was on the verge of tears. Light, crying, no, she’d seen him crying before, he cried last time in this scene too, didn’t make it any less weird, “How could you kill all those people?”

“Um,” she paused, drew out the syllable, her mind blanking because honestly that was the last thing on her mind at this point and it was almost laughable, “I didn’t do it?”

Light didn’t seem to take her word for it, scowling, his expression growing almost murderous (without his memories of actual murder he couldn’t quite manage his usual murderous look), “L found the evidence, Anna, there’s no use denying it. We know you’re Kira!”

She almost wished she could nod, or do something, not just lie like a dead fish on a table. As it was she just sort of blankly stared at the ceiling trying to feel… Well, something, this was much more anticlimactic the second time around. It was just hard to get up that feeling, that panic, over the worth of her own existence when she knew that Light wasn’t going to do it.

Unless he was, because Anna wasn’t performing, and the god-author decided to spice things up by actually killing off her female lead.

So maybe Anna should be concerned about her acting abilities, and her ability to be terrified of things like death threats and syringes, but it was… It just felt so distant, like she had already moved past this moment and instead was focusing on…

On L’s sweet nubile flesh. Handcuffed to L’s sweet nubile flesh for the second time in a row. Oh, oh god, she felt like she wanted to vomit. She was going to vomit even earlier than last time, she was going to drown in her own vomit with L and Light watching.

With that, she quickly said, “Not Kira, Light, get me off this table or so help me god…”

“Don’t you understand what kind of a situation you’re in?” Light asked.

Anna, perhaps too calmly, stated the facts as she could see them, “I am strapped to a table, after having been tortured for… I don’t even know how long, it has apparently been decided by L and the gang that I’m Kira, and I’m probably about to be executed.”

She also wasn’t real, never had been, nothing in her life had any significance, except for the fact that she had somehow messed up being not real and the fate of the universe literally rested upon her shoulders. Now, to save the world, she had to interact romantically with L and Light enough to satisfy a deity who in all likelihood was a hormonal twelve-year-old who had moved onto greener pastures of the Lord of the Rings variety.

…She’d also been shot in the head by Matsuda.

Alright, not being real… She could deal with that later, she was a pragmatic person at heart (you couldn’t be pragmatic if you didn’t exist), and while she liked philosophical musings she could damn will push it aside to deal with until later. So that was fine, fine, it was fine, she was fine, it was all fine.

Matsuda shooting her in the face, in the past. Besides, not really his fault. That was Misa and Mikami or, well, the author, and Misa, and Mikami… It was unclear if free will was really a thing here or not.

That fell into the philosophical bullshit bucket that she was going to think about when she wasn’t strapped to a goddamn table.

For now, she was just going to go ahead and say that she didn’t blame Matsuda for shooting her in the face.

No what really concerned her was, oh god, she was going to have to sleep with L… Or maybe cuddle, maybe she could get away with cuddling, it still made the hair on the back of her neck stand up but goddammit she could cuddle. She would cuddle, for the love of humanity and the world and everything that existed she could cuddle.

Some of this must have shown on her face, or else her rather apt summary had been a little too on point, because Light gave her a rather funny, concerned, look, “…Well, yes, they’re going to execute you. They were going to do it without you seeing anyone but… But even if you are Kira, no, especially because you are Kira, I needed to be here. I needed to see it for myself.”

And she realized… Light had been fake the whole time. She’d told him in the beginning, he was either fake because of belonging to Death Note, or fake because he belonged to whatever she was in now. And yet… Well, it had certainly bothered him, perhaps shaken him for that matter, but here he still was.

She’d never realized that about him before, that he had been able to face something like that, like this, and even in the face of it he’d been spectacular.

Well, a murderous bastard, but still…

“You know, Light, I’m glad that we’re friends,” she finally said, smiling at him through tears falling down her face, because in that moment she was, even as he put a needle into her arm, his own eyes locked with hers, she was glad that they were friends.

* * *

She was still smiling after it was done, smiling and staring up at the ceiling, even as tears rolled down her cheeks.

It had been two months since he’d seen her in person, it felt as if it had been years. She’d looked so different, so healthy, when they’d first arrested her…

Two months had changed her though, more than just physically, he’d seen her cry before, but this, this wasn’t the same, wasn’t the same as those panicked tears that he couldn’t remember why he’d seen.

(Was it to do with Misa? Ryuzaki? Himself? Some combination of all of them that he couldn’t place together even while he stared at her?)

She had the look of a man who was staring at his last sunset, or rather, the sunset after the sunset he had assumed would be his last. She was looking at the white ceiling with a bittersweet joy for this thing they called life even after he’d just pretended to execute her.

And she’d called him her friend.

He didn’t think she’d ever called herself that before, not willingly, not… Not like that, as if she meant it from the bottom of her heart without any reservations at all. And… And he didn’t know if he’d ever called her that either. Even though she was, his best friend, his only real human friend in the world.

And what had he done to deserve it?

L had pressed her face into the table, so that she was forced to look into the screen as he cuffed her hands, and Light had done nothing. He’d stood there with the rest of them, watched as L declared her to be the first Kira based on evidence presented to them through tortured confession by the second Kira, and that had been it. He’d just stood there and watched, watched as she’d been carted away with a look of horror on her face, and condemned himself to watch her for the next two months through television screens as Light desperately tried to search for the real Kira or prove Misa to be the only Kira.

The Kira that couldn’t possibly be Anna, had never been Anna, if only someone would listen to him.

Except every time someone called her that, Kira, he’d wanted to laugh, like it was all some grand joke that only he understood.

And she called him her friend. 

He wanted to say something to her, anything, but the look she was giving him… She seemed to see every part of his soul, even the parts that Light had forgotten or else couldn’t see himself, and she looked…

He turned away, instead facing the camera, “Well, Ryuzaki, does she pass?”

L was silent for a few moments, too long, and then his robotic voice answered in a strangely defeated tone, “I suppose she does.”

“Oh my god, are we scripted?”

Light turned to look at her, she looked… irritated, no, more than that, insulted.

“Excuse me?”

“You said that last time, you asshole!” Anna accused, staring straight at the ceiling but looking as if she wanted to stare straight at L. She then sighed, breathed out, and said, “I’m… sorry, that wasn’t… I have had a very rough two months, as I’m sure you can understand.”

L paused, seemed to gather himself, and asked, “I take it you’re aware of what just happened here?”

“Well, I may have been blindfolded, starved, drugged…” she trailed off, sighed again, this time seemingly annoyed at herself, then answered rather flatly, “Yes, Ryuzaki, I’m not an idiot.”

This wasn’t… This wasn’t how her stupid American bravado usually went. This was something new, something born from prison, that frankly, was a little alarming to watch. More, this wasn’t something they needed right now, and she should know that, where was her caution?

“So then, you are aware that this was a test?” L asked before adding, “You seemed rather distracted at the time, I wasn’t sure your heart was in it.”

“… Are you serious?” Anna asked, then paused, and blurted, “Never mind, I don’t want to know, I don’t care, I could care less. Light, get me off this goddamn table, please!”

Then they were done, Light supporting her as they headed back to L’s new headquarters that he’d had built during Anna and Misa’s incarceration.

She was completely silent on the way there, staring ahead at nothing with a glazed and resolute expression… He’d never seen her look like that, like she was dead already. He tried at first to fill the silence by explaining what had happened, the new headquarters, Misa, Anna’s status as a prime suspect, the testing, but eventually he too ran out of words.

There seemed to be nothing to say.

Instead, he looked out the window and pondered the consequences of this, of all of this, if the media or anyone ever found out…

“Light,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.

Her voice was hoarse, unused during incarceration, but she didn’t seem to mind, didn’t flinch when she spoke. Instead she looked at him with that intensity, the same as before, like she was trying to dissect him with her thoughts alone.

“Yes?”

“How do you do it?” she asked.

“Do what?” Light asked, because he honestly had no idea what she was talking about.

“How do you go on, how do you stay motivated and do what you have to, when you know… When you know what you really are?”

“What I…” he trailed off, paused, not entirely sure what she was getting at. Did she… Did she think he was Kira? No, there was no way, not with her sitting this calmly next to him… Except, if anyone in the world would know him as Kira, it would be her, she knew everything about him, even when he hated that.

But he wasn’t Kira so it was moot point, he actually gave out a small laugh at that, “Are you trying to accuse me of being Kira? You know, Anna, L does have cameras in the car.”

She actually cracked a smile at that, as if she saw the joke as much as he did (better than he did), then said, “No, no, not about Kira do you… We’ve talked about this before, you might not remember, but it’s not about Kira.”

“Not about Kira?” Light asked, “Something to do with what I really am, and not about Kira… Well, I’m me, I… I really don’t know what you’re getting at here.”

She seemed earnest though, surprisingly earnest, as if this mattered more than anything else possibly could. As if her very existence hinged upon his answer.

“What if you weren’t real?” she asked, “What if you were… made up, by someone in some other time and some other place, and that person doesn’t like you? What if you’re just some cat and mouse antagonist who is doomed before he even gets started?”

Light’s brow furrowed, “That’s… an interesting line of thought.”

He paused then, and instead said what had been on his mind since the last time he’d seen her, simmering inside of his soul as he’d watched every day tick by, “We’ll find him, Anna. We’ll find Kira, the real Kira, and make that bastard pay for everything that’s happened to you. I…”

She cut him off, she actually had the audacity to cut him off, “What if you couldn’t know if anything you did was real or not? Scripted? What if you’re just repeating lines from a script you can’t remember reading?! How do you live with it, more, how do you keep going?!”

She was waiting for an answer, this… mattered to her, almost more than anything had before, and she wanted his answer. He paused, took her in, her sheer desperation, and said slowly, “I mean it, you’re not Kira and he’s still out there. The longer he’s out there the longer… Well, if I wasn’t real, or I found out I wasn’t real I’d…”

And why did this seem familiar? She said they’d talked about it before and yes… Yes… There was a vague memory, of something to do with him, and irrefutable proof that he wasn’t… That he’d been made up. And, and he’d been angry, he’d raged, he’d been in denial, but it’d slipped his mind later, or nearly.

“I asked you.”

“What?” Anna asked but he looked at her, almost as if seeing her for the first time again, showing up out of nowhere.

“I, I tried not to think about it too deeply, and then I’d ask you. Because, if I couldn’t be trusted, not completely, to go off… script, then… Then I had to turn to you.”

Then he chided, “But you really should be more concerned about Kira.”

“Oh, believe me, I am,” Anna said with a sigh, “Very, very, concerned.”

Funny, he thought, because she didn’t seem concerned at all. Still, he’d be concerned for her, and that would have to be good enough.


	28. Chapter 28

_“People change, it’s hard to go back to what you were, I don’t know if it’s possible or even worth trying to be honest. I can’t remember what that person was like anymore.”_

* * *

For future reference, Anna thought to herself as she stumbled from the car and into the task force headquarters, recovering from two months of being tied to a post was not easier the second time. Even if she couldn’t remember the second time, per se, and it didn’t really happen more than once, but the thought still stood. It wasn’t worse, or at least, not from what she could remember (she still wasn’t blind and she still could walk) but it still wasn’t what she’d term enjoyable either.

Especially since, with little else but existential bullshit philosophy to occupy her mind, there was the nauseating practical question of what now? Although, strangely enough, Light himself had played a role of… some comfort back there in the car. Perhaps not strangely though, Light the amnesiac had proven to be quite helpful and supportive last time. Still, he’d been doing this for months, living and planning even with the knowledge of his own fictitious nature, almost a year when Anna and L met their fateful ends. If he could somehow handle that, more, if he could successfully move past Death Note canon then surely that said something, didn’t it?

Sure, it’d blown up in their faces, or rather Anna Jones’ face, but the point remained that Light, in some capacity, had handled this metaphysical bullshit quite well. Probably better than she was handling it at the moment.

Sure, Anna didn’t have an Anna Jones of her own, well, the fickle god that ruled over her life sort of counted as an outside source to be consulted, but still…

Point being, easier and more practical than contemplating the meaning of life was coming up with what had to happen next.

Pander to god like author figure by playing it up with L and Light and being a leaf on the metaphorical wind. Well… In retrospect of her burning bush equivalent that left a lot of room for interpretation. If Anna was writing the story…

Well, Anna wouldn’t write this story, clearly, it wasn’t her cup of tea and probably was a terrible read. Who would want to read about Anna Jones, representative of every girl except ten times better at math and Japanese, L’s heir apparent, best friends with and or blackmailed hostage of Light Yagami, and caught in a desperately fraught love triangle with dangers like Misa and Mikami waiting just around the corner?

Oh, and the sass and sarcasm, must not forget Anna’s inherent sass and sarcasm (which she now had the horrible realization that it probably wasn’t a coping mechanism like she’d always thought but instead one of those characteristics that was supposed to make her endearing… She didn’t feel very endearing).

However, if Anna was writing this story, then how would she end it? Or, rather, how would she go on from this rewritten point where everything had fallen apart? What kind of actions, character development, tension, climax, ending, et cetera, would the god-author be satisfied with?

Light was still touching her, like he had the first time, holding her hand and supporting her with an arm under her shoulders when it became clear that Anna lacked any stamina at all. It was still very surreal, even after the first time, the explanation of memory-loss dating, and divine intervention.

Anna tried not to think about this too much, even as Light shot her increasingly worried and dubious looks (as if they were all real people, how cute), even when they stepped inside L’s bat cave with everyone waiting for Anna and Misa’s appearance.

If Anna was the author…

Well, backing that thought up, there were roughly four endings she could think to give a story like this. First, the easy if bizarre way out, L and Light both win, L learns about love and friendship, Light either redeems himself or never gets his Kira memories back, and they form a super sexy threesome involved with kinky things like handcuffs and oh dear god in heaven Anna Jones might rather face nonexistence.

She could feel her face burning from the thought alone, even as she shuddered, still, it technically was an option.

Second, L wins. Now, either L victoriously defeats Light, Light willingly sacrifices himself, or some other way this comes about that Anna could not for the life of her put together at the moment. Either way, Light either willingly concedes defeat and ends up best man at their wedding or else dies or is locked in prison with Anna visiting him awkwardly in prison afterward and asking for his blessing.

Third, Light wins with L gloriously defeated and very likely dead or else L conceding defeat to a likely memoryless Light. Now, did the first of this scream Hannibal Lector to her in blood red letters, why yes, yes it did…

And fourth, they all lose, Anna becomes a strong independent woman who doesn’t need men in her life thank you very much, or else they kill each other off and she cries in agony over their corpses like Hamlet’s mom at the end of the play.

Good god, all these options were awful. More, they were all so awful, in their own unique way, that she couldn’t tell which the author would want. Light’s complete annihilation of the enemy team didn’t really seem her style, nor did killing everyone (though she’d done essentially this before via Mikami and Misa), but Anna had no clue at all, maybe it was.

That was, if an ending was what Anna wanted. If the story ended, after all, then what happened to well… Everyone? Would that be any different, better, worse, than if they’d just ended as abruptly as they had before?

But whatever Anna was going to think about next, probably make a decision of which of those truly terrible dating simulation options was the winner, was interrupted by Light talking to the rest of the somewhat sheepish task force as well as the increasing sense of déjà vu that she felt she was going to be settled with for the rest of her existence.

“I hope you’re satisfied, Ryuzaki!” Ah, Kira-less Light trying to be intimidating, he tried so hard yet was squandering the infinite potential he had stored inside himself.

And there was L, right on cue, parroting words that Anna was frighteningly sure he’d said the last go-round of this scene (making Anna wonder if it was more simulated versus the writer recycling old chapters, though clearly mostly dialogue, as Anna Jones’ thoughts were nowhere near what they’d been the first go around), “Well, I wouldn’t say satisfied…”

L trailed off, his eyes settling on Anna’s for far too long, again. And for a moment… For a moment she was torn between fond exasperation and relief and a deep seeded fear and loathing that she couldn’t shake from herself even now. She’d watched him die, and it’d been so sudden, there’d been no sense of mourning or even a chance to and now here he was, alive and well, and looking at her as if he was searching the very depths of her soul for some spark of familiarity.

Perhaps for that fictitious Anna Jones’ whose past he knew but she somehow didn’t, a dropped detail on the part of the author’s, now putting many of their conversations into a strange perspective that she still couldn’t quite bring herself to appreciate.

After all, at the end of things, L was still and always would be L.

“Light! Misa was hoping she would see you again!” Misa, once again after two months of imprisonment, looked damn good and smiled an overjoyed smile at a completely horrified Light Yagami. And nowhere in her was the knowledge of murder or death or L and the task force’s blood on her hands.

Light stepped back, pulling Anna back with him and into his chest, like any good overprotective boyfriend might (though in the case of Misa, it was a bit hard to be overprotective, given that Misa had literally murdered all of them when left to her own devices).

“Light, how dare you cling to some other woman when your girlfriend needs you?! Why are you always so mean to Misa?!”

Oh, shit, Anna remembered where this was going now.

“Girlfriend?! You aren’t my girlfriend, you crazy stalker!”

Right, this was where Light and Misa played the selective amnesia game with their love lives and went on an almost soap opera worthy spiel about girlfriends, stalkers, threats, love at first sight, and the like. All that was missing was the evil twin brother, the kidnapped baby, and the clones.

How had she almost forgotten about this?

Oh, right, she’d been shot in the head by Matsuda. Yes, in retrospect that still seemed much more pressing.

“Stalker?! You said you loved me!”

“You threatened to kill any woman who stepped near me! You threatened Anna several times! You framed her for being Kira!”

Anna couldn’t help but let her eyes drift towards L, who appeared to be mirroring her own look of befuddled exasperation as he watched this bizarre scene unfold, and oh god, was this a moment of kinship between them, did this unlock the first step on the path towards her and L’s future socially awkward half alien babies?

L’s lips quirked up at her attention, amused by her look of horror no doubt, and he bit on his thumb even as he said, “My, my, let me see if I’ve gotten this straight. Amane Misa, you claim that you and Light have been dating since…”

This was all the cue Misa needed as she romantically told the story of her and Light first meeting, “Early spring, which Misa thinks is just so romantic! Love is best for springtime when the sakura is blooming!”

“That’s not true at…” Light started only for L to hold up his hand and interrupt.

“And you, Light, claim that this woman has been stalking you and giving death threats to your friend Anna Jones.”

Death threats was the understatement of the century given that Misa had, in the not too distant future, been responsible for Anna’s murder. Except that hadn’t happened yet, but Misa had still certainly threatened her, and threw her into prison.

“Well, those are certainly two conflicting stories,” L concluded as his eyes drifted from Misa to Light and finally to Anna, “But I wonder, there’s one point of view we haven’t heard yet, isn’t there Anna?”

Oh, oh shit.

Anna felt her face pale, oh right, this was where she had to say what happened and why. More importantly, did she change what she’d said last time? What had she even said last time? Could the author avoid Misa shanking her if Anna agreed with Light? Would the author do that since Misa had been her vehicle of death last time?

Exactly how much of this did the author control again? It couldn’t be too much if Anna Jones had managed to ruin it, more, had been given this strange second opportunity. She had to believe she had some control over her own existence, however pitiful, if only to maintain her own sanity.

“…Uh…” she started, eyes flicking to a now vaguely irritated Light and an increasingly angry Misa.

See, it was all good to be philosophical when your actual murderer wasn’t looking you in the face, and it was all good to come to terms with not existing when you were dead and or hallucinating, but it was really hard to come to terms with that when you were alive, breathing, sweating, and both Kiras were glaring at you waiting for you to say something.

Oh, Jesus, she couldn’t keep stalling.

She blurted the first thing that came into her head, which turned out to be the same decision she’d made last time, to placate Misa, “What, Misa and Light not dating? No, they date all the time, since Spring… It was romantic.”

L’s eyebrow rose, Misa beamed, and Light looked like he was going to kill her as a normal person versus as Kira which was fine enough for her. Still, she couldn’t help but look at the ceiling, wondering if divine retribution was about to reign down upon her for not giving into Light’s every whim.

Nothing happened, the lights didn’t flicker, a bullet didn’t lodge itself in her brain, and the ceiling remained… Well, a ceiling. That was… perhaps a dubious sign of divine support.

“Anna, how could I be dating Misa when you and I have been dating since November?!”

Oh, right, that. Anna looked down from the ceiling, blinking, brain absolutely blank except for the nagging thought that this was the moment that she’d vomited on L’s feet.

Except this time she wasn’t nearly as shocked by that idea and the vomit, if she wanted it or not, just wasn’t coming, so she decided that if she was going to hell she might as well take the express car, “What can I say, Light? You get around.”

* * *

It took her a few days, a few days of staring into space or else at Light or L in eerily intense contemplation, a few days of barely pretending to hunt down Kira for Anna Jones to finally say, “Okay, Light, bear with me, this is going to get… very surreal.”

Light couldn’t even look at her, or rather, Light wanted to look anywhere else, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to look away. Sometimes he wondered just what it was he saw in Anna Jones, why they were such close friends when she was so…

So very dense sometimes. Dense, mulishly stubborn, lazy, nihilistic, philosophical to a fault, and so disassociated from the reality of the situation she was in.

Well, except those times when she wasn’t, but the Anna Jones he needed to see right now was not staring back at him, instead it was Anna Jones the façade, brazen and American in sweatpants who had taken her place.

“Anna,” he said for what had to be the fiftieth time in two days, rubbing at his eyes and feeling the irritation and anger growing beyond his control even as his father, all his father’s coworkers, and L himself watched, “Do you realize what’s happening here?”

Anna shot him a somewhat annoyed look as she leaned back in her swivel chair, dutifully ignoring her own computer terminal and the criminal profiles littering the screen, “I’m perfectly aware of…”

Light didn’t even wait for her to finish let alone start, “You, Anna, are our prime suspect for the Kira investigation along with Misa. Right now, if Ryuzaki hadn’t let you help with the investigation, you’d still be locked in a room with her.”

A toxic situation if there ever was one. Anna had barely stayed even a few hours before she’d called L from the bathroom, demanding to get off the floor before Misa smothered her in her sleep with a pillow. Which, given what Light knew of Misa, was not an altogether outlandish possibility.

Light then motioned to the silver handcuff chaining Anna to L, something he himself had been horrified with, but Anna seemed resigned or else indifferent to it as if she’d expected nothing less from the man!

And here, here Light could only sit dumbly and watch as she chained herself willingly to a man who had watched her on camera as she was left blindfolded, starved, and hung from a post for two months until he decided to fake her execution at Light’s hand, watching as she babbled with barely any lucidity and judged these last, desperate, rambles of thought for a spark of Kira.

How could she possibly be so indifferent when Light himself wanted to strangle L with that silver chain every time he caught sight of it?

“And even helping our investigation, you’re still kept under twenty-four seven, intimate, surveillance that would be balked at by any sane judge and jury…”

Anna here interrupted as she sipped on her coffee, perfectly indifferent to all the pairs of eyes watching this spat, L’s included, “Thank you, Light, that’s very sweet, but I’m surprisingly used to the handcuffs.”

Oh, but Light wasn’t going to take that sitting down either as he continued, voice louder and speaking over her, “And if we do not find Kira, the true original Kira, then this is how you will spend the rest of your life if something worse doesn’t happen to you! You could be executed, you could be put into true solitary confinement! Don’t you understand, Anna, it’s not just your life at stake it’s…”

He threw up his hands, looking around for support as everyone sheepishly glanced in other directions, however Anna Jones didn’t seem moved in the slightest, instead, she looked strangely grim as she said, words laced with an irony that was beyond Light or anyone else, “Believe me Light, I know exactly what kind of stakes we’re playing with. Now, if you’re done having a tantrum, will you please sit down, shut up, and hear me out?”

A tantrum, here he was, working for her freedom, a freedom she didn’t seem to care about at all, and she was saying that he was having a tantrum. Honestly, sometimes, he didn’t even know why he bothered. He could be anywhere else right now, he hoped she knew that, he could be at university even, devoting time to his studies as he would be in any sane world.

In fact, thinking of that, he thought it best to remind her, “I don’t have to be here, Anna, I’m doing this for you.”

Anna seemed to be trying very hard to maintain a stoic expression, something Light didn’t at all appreciate as he continued, “And I hope that someday soon, when you come to your senses, you’ll realize just how much you owe me for this and everything that I’m sacrificing for your benefit. In the meantime, you could at least pretend to be grateful.”

She sighed, at once looking exhausted, and rubbed a pale hand over her face, “I am grateful, Light, more than I thought possible, honestly. And I’m sorry if I don’t seem like it, or if I seem distracted or disinterested or I don’t even know… I’m grateful, and sorry, and I know that I owe you, more, I don’t mind that I owe you anything, which I think says a lot for my part. Just… Just listen, for five minutes, please. I need… I need another perspective on this.”

She then wryly glanced at L, who made no pretense of not staring at the pair of them as he ate his latest round of pastries, “Oh, don’t mind me, please continue.”

They both watched as he took another bite, licking his fingers before biting on his thumb again, not quite sucking it but certainly nibbling on the end of his fingernail as he hunched over himself like an oversized carrion bird.

Yes, Light would likely never get used to the idea that this human trash bag was L.

“And Light, I’d really rather not be forced to ask him,” Anna said as she looked back at him, and it was a sad thing that Light understood perfectly what she meant, even if he was at his wit’s ends with her.

Light threw up his hands, sighed, and gave up, “Fine, fine, what is it?”

For a moment she paused, considered her words, the began, “Hypothetically, if… God, was very likely a twelve to thirteen-year-old girl, wait, no, that came out wrong…”

She stopped, looked up towards the ceiling almost as if in supplication, before sighing and starting again, “Imagine a world where God is Sayu.”

Light dearly wished he hadn’t let her start, “I’m imagining a world where God is Sayu?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Sayu,” Anna said holding up her hands in defense, “But Sayu is a very good example of this and oh, what are you even looking at Ryuzaki, don’t you have work to do?!”

L, at seeing this, said nothing and made no movement except to keep eating the apple tart in his hand.

Light sighed, rolling his own eyes, before blandly repeating what he’d heard thus far, “So, hypothetically, my sister is God.”

At this Anna Jones smiled, leaned forward, and continued complete with dramatic hand gestures as she explained, “Yes, right, hypothetically your sister is God, more the entire point of the universe, of the entire world she has created, is focused upon three people and their love lives, a love triangle. Are you with me?”

Light had only one response to that, “No.”

She sighed in irritation, glared across at Light, and asked, “Can you at least pretend to have some sort of imagination?”

Light was too tired to have some sort of imagination, as she called it, “Why would God create an entire world for the love lives of three people? That’s inane.”

“Well, create is a strong term, it’s more borrowed,” Anna mused.

“Borrowed? From who? The other God?” Light asked with raised eyebrows.

“Technically yes.”

“Your hypothetical situation is getting confusing,” Light noted with a snort, wondering if this wasn’t why he was friends with Anna Jones, when the situation wasn’t fraught with tension she was just bizarre enough to be almost entertaining.

“Which is why I said created and dammit, Light, you are making me lose my concentration,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and starting over, “So, God Sayu has created or borrowed, it doesn’t matter, a world whose sole focus is on the love lives of three people. One of them is basically an idealized avatar of herself, smart, funny, pretty, able to match wits with her two male costars, and ultimately the protagonist of… the universe, I suppose we’ll call it.”

Light, listening to this garbage, honestly had no real idea where it was going, and nor did he care. All he wanted to do was catch Kira and go home and pretend that none of this had ever happened. Was that so hard to ask?

Apparently, it was, as Anna kept on going much to Light’s embarrassment and the morbid interest of everyone else, “One of the others, the first love interest, is… a younger and handsomer version of Hannibal Lector before he makes it to the mental asylum, and with slightly less cannibalism.”

Did he dare point out that he had no idea who or what a Hannibal Lector was?

“Our final member of this triangle, the second love interest, is…” she trailed off, staring at the ceiling pointedly as she tried to think, “Technically a good person, but mostly by association, a genius of the highest caliber, and looks something like a zombie.”

Here Light had to interrupt as he was beginning to see something of a pattern, or had the nagging suspicion that he was seeing something of a pattern, “Is it Ryuzaki?”

She paled, drew back, looking utterly flabbergasted, “No, no, no… This is all hypothetical, remember?”

It was L, which meant that Hannibal Lector was probably Light, just by association… And apparently Anna Jones thought of him as a cannibal behind his back. That was certainly good to know, though somehow not surprising.

He had the feeling that she’d always had a bad opinion of him and that it always surprised her when he in any way acted like a decent human being. A trait he’d found mostly to be mildly annoying if not outright insulting and now sometimes heart wrenching.

Was it so very hard to trust that he cared about her?

Yes, looking at her now, apparently it was.

Light decided to summarize once again, “Right, so Ryuzaki, me, and I assume you are in this world created by my little sister and are in a love triangle.”

For a moment Anna said nothing, just stared at him with that comical look of the person who had been confronted by someone who simply knew too much, then she coughed attempted to write it off then said, “No, no, just people… Like us, sort of.”

He sighed, “I’ll have you know, Anna, that at the moment, I find you neither intelligent, pretty, nor funny.”

“You are a jackass,” Anna replied almost instinctively, and he was tempted to smile in response, a small amused thing, but he was just too tired and the future seemed so very bleak. They were nowhere close to catching Kira, and until then, Light couldn’t find it in himself to appreciate Anna Jones’ strange diversions.

“I am trying to do work,” Light responded, already turning back to his computer to signal that he was more than done with this conversation.

“And I am not done!” Anna cried out before continuing, talking to Light’s shoulders, “Anyways, so, the way I see it, there are four ways this hypothetical situation can end, an ending, which, by the way, must please your sister the tyrannical god.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Light muttered to himself, already looking through profiles once again and trying to search between the words to where Kira himself was undoubtedly lurking out of sight.

“One, ménage à trois,” Anna started, unwillingly drawing Light’s attention back with the audacious term and all its horrible implications, “All three of them get together, we avoid any hard decisions, and we get twice as much naughty sex scenes to please our preteen fickle mistress.”

Did Anna really just suggest that he, L, and her… No, it didn’t even bear thinking about. Clearly, prison had been worse for her than he’d thought.

“Please don’t insult my sister,” Light said but Anna didn’t seem to care as she continued.

“Two, technically good trash bag zombie wins the triangle,” Anna very pointedly did not look at L at this moment, a movement that L, who was watching this was a somewhat wry expression (if the bastard even had expressions at all) seemed to find amusing, “Which means Hannibal the not cannibal has admitted defeat or else has been conveniently booted off stage. Good defeats evil, sort of, and there is much rejoicing.”

Light hoped that Anna wasn’t thinking of dating Ryuzaki, if that was what she was implying, because then Light might seriously worry that she had some bastardized form of Stockholm Syndrome.

… He was clearly too tired and too fed up to take this as seriously as he should.

“Three, Hannibal the not cannibal wins the triangle,” and here Anna pointedly did not look at Light, though his being the not a cannibal was very much implied, “Which means that trash bag zombie has admitted defeat or else has been conveniently booted off stage. Evil defeats good, sort of, and there is much rejoicing.”

Now, Light technically was dating Anna, had been for a good number of months now, but right now he was hard-pressed to come up with why exactly that was. Especially since he was starting to wonder if this was her backhanded way of accusing him of being Kira.

As if he wasn’t the only person in this room who believed wholeheartedly in her innocence and was the only one really attempting to help her and get her out of this hell. Evil, honestly, why was he the evil one?

“Finally, nobody wins, everyone dies, and there is… Probably not rejoicing but certainly lessons learned.”

Light blinked, blinked again, crossed his arms and stated, “You forgot the possibility where Ryuzaki and I shack up, as you would term it.”

She laughed, guffawed at that as she broke out into an amused grin, “Oh, no, if that was going to happen then I wouldn’t even exist.”

Light could only blandly state, “I don’t even understand what that means.”

“It means that you don’t have to worry about that one,” Anna said, brushing her hand to the side, “So… If Sayu were God, and the result of this must… please her, in some capacity, which would you pick?”

You could almost hear the forceful non-listening of everyone else, Matsuda making some call that he was going out for coffee again while everyone else shuffled conveniently out of the room, not willing to handle this. Aizawa muttering that he worked with children and Light not even having the energy to disagree.

“Well, I’d clearly pick Light and I having sex,” L chimed in drily, only hastening the mass exodus from the room, as if there was something worse than hypothetically discussing the love life of Anna Jones it was discussing L’s, “He’s just so very attractive and charming.”

It said far too much about Light’s acquaintanceship with L that he didn’t even blink. He did, however, shudder slightly, a movement copied and amplified by Anna herself.

Still, small favors that his father had left the room first and not heard that last bit. His father might have no respect for Anna (something that, while Light wouldn’t say she’d earned his disregard, she did make it too easy to dismiss her every now and then) but on hearing L, even jokingly, declare his interest in Light…

Yes, hopefully Matsuda, the last out, would have enough tact and intelligence not to be an idiot and say something incredibly stupid.

“Ryuzaki, this was a question for Light, you only got to hear it because you handcuffed yourself to me like a jackass,” Anna quipped back as soon as she’d gotten over her shuddering, appearing perfectly indifferent to the now empty room, as she’d been almost perfectly indifferent to the rest of the task force for days now.

Except Matsuda, every once in a while, she’d stare at him, a cold and assessing thing, watching whenever he entered and exited as if she was almost waiting for something. Thus far Matsuda hadn’t noticed but for the life of him Light couldn’t think what it would be about Matsuda that could spark her interest.

“None the less, as it’s my sex life, I think I’m entitled to an opinion,” L said, clearly unbothered by Anna’s second shudder at the mention of his sex life.

“It’s not your sex life, it’s not even hypothetically your sex life, there are several options where hypothetical you doesn’t get sex at all!” Anna pointed out.

“Yes, but three out of five is still fairly decent odds,” L mused before noting, “Why, your odds of being Kira are substantially less than that.”

“That would be because I’m not Kira,” Anna dully responded, looking more exasperated than anything else, as if she knew that vehement denial would get her nowhere at all so she wasn’t even willing to try anymore.

“That denial was flat, a little too tired, we’d best be adding a percentage,” L remarked before cheerfully noting, “Still not three fifths though, you’ll be happy to know.”

“The joy I feel is immeasurable, Ryuzaki.”

“And you have to choose one of these options?” Light asked before L could further derail her.

“Yes, it has been made… quite clear, that one of these options will be chosen for them whether they like it or not,” she held out her hands, “So… choices, because honestly… Honestly I’m a little stumped.”

And she did, surprisingly, looked genuinely stumped by this bizarre hypothetical situation she’d thought up. Finally, Light just said, “Anna, we’re already dating, please don’t cheat on me with Ryuzaki of all people.”

“Oh, oh god, no,” Anna said, before stopping herself, “That… Remember, it’s all hypothetical, and in this hypothetical situation it has been made clear that that’s not good enough.”

Well if that was the case, “Then clearly, the hypothetical you has to choose the trash-bag.”

“No, not necessarily,” she chimed in, leaning back and staring at the ceiling in deep thought, “I think… It has to be unclear who the victor might be, that… That there is a choice, tension, drama. At least, I think.”

“Then Anna, as your boyfriend, you have my vote already,” his eyes then slid from her to L, “And even for you, I would never, ever, touch that.”

L had the gall to look insulted by that, or at least mildly irritated.

That, at least, got a reasonable reaction out of her, she burst out laughing, shook her head and leaned back in her chair, dismissing him with a hand wave and saying, “Well, with that, I guess I’d better get back to doing real work.”

Still, he thought to himself, even if she was crazy, or at least a few light bulbs short of a full chandelier, at least he’d been able to make her smile in all of this.

**Author's Note:**

> To those of you about to read this, especially those who have not come from fanfiction and seen the fic there already. I shall warn you now that while this story is a cat and mouse realistic take on an SI it's also, at it's heart, a deconstruction of the genre. This means at chapter 25 what you thought was a realistic thriller will turn into what many consider postmodern pretentious garbage. If this is not your cup of tea, I suggest you quietly move along and don't look back.
> 
> Otherwise welcome, thanks for reading, comments, kudos, and bookmarks are greatly appreciated.


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